


Dreams Take Flight

by Kc8899



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer
Genre: 1800's, 5SOS - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Past, F/F, Lashton - Freeform, M/M, Multi, gay is okay, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:21:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kc8899/pseuds/Kc8899
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Benjamin screamed as another wave sucked him under. He tried to swim to the surface, but the river water swirling around his body held him down. As he thrashed about, he felt a pudgy hand grasp his arm in desperation. He tried harder to get to the surface, and his head eventually broke through. As he gasped for air, he tried to pull the little boy out of the rivers violent current. Just when he had the little boy safe in his arms, a sudden torrent of water came roaring down the river and swept him away. No, no! This can't be happening. No! </i><br/>"No, no, no! I can't—I can't lose you!"<br/>"Benjamin? Benjamin! Benjamin wake up!"<br/>Benjamin opened his eyes with a start and sat up in the small bed he and his younger brother shared.<br/>"Did you have another nightmare?" His little brother asked, his sapphire eyes widened with concern.<br/>"Yes, I did, I'm sorry for waking you," Benjamin replied, wiping the tears from his eyes as he lay back down.<br/>"That's okay. Are you alright?"<br/>"I'm fine, Luke." His brother looked unconvinced. "Really, I'm fine now," Benjamin said, turning his back on his brother to face the window. Luke snuggled closer before falling back asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Benjamin screamed as another wave sucked him under. He tried to swim to the surface, but the river water swirling around his body held him down. As he thrashed about, he felt a pudgy hand grasp his arm in desperation. He tried harder to get to the surface, and his head eventually broke through. As he gasped for air, he tried to pull the little boy out of the rivers violent current. Just when he had the little boy safe in his arms, a sudden torrent of water came roaring down the river and swept him away. Benjamin screamed again, tears rolling down his face as he splashed down the river after the boy, but he had disappeared. Frustrated, and on the verge of hysterics, Benjamin let out a desperate moan, and a fresh torrent of tears came pouring out of his eyes. No, no! This can't be happening. No!_

"No, no, no! I can't—I can't lose you!" 

"Benjamin? Benjamin! Benjamin wake up!" 

Benjamin opened his eyes with a start and sat up in the small bed he and his younger brother shared. 

"Did you have another nightmare?" His little brother asked, his sapphire eyes widened with concern.

"Yes, I did, I'm sorry for waking you," Benjamin replied, wiping the tears from his eyes as he lay back down.

"That's okay. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Luke." His brother looked unconvinced. "Really, I'm fine now," Benjamin said, turning his back on his brother to face the window. Luke snuggled closer before falling back asleep, and Benjamin smiled at his brother's simple gesture, eventually letting the light rain pattering outside lull him into a dreamless sleep. 

 

****

 

"It's time to get up!" Luke called out. Benjamin groaned and pulled the thin sheet up over his head, but Luke flung the sheet off of his brother.

"Benjamin! You need to get up, if you don't you can't go to Brazil—Actually, never mind, sleep all day if it pleases you," he said. He carefully tucked the blanket around his brother and patted his hand. "There, now you can't leave me because you'll be asleep! Maybe I could put a sleeping potion on you like the evil witch in Mr. VanHaram's book, and then you will be here with me forever!" Luke cackled.

Benjamin sat up slowly in their bed and sighed. "Luke, you really are too old to be pretending such things as magic—you are twelve." Luke just shrugged his shoulders as he pulled on his work clothes. "Besides, I have been over this with you. I am going to Brazil to help the heathens there learn about God." 

Luke sighed. "I know, I know, you've told me this before. But, I don't want you to go. I'm going to miss you." 

"I know, and I'm going to miss you, too. Luke, you have to try to understand. I'm not leaving you because I want to—I'm leaving because I have to. It's my calling from God to go teach the people in Brazil about Him, and although I'm going to miss you dreadfully, I know that I can trust you to be a gentleman while I'm away. Can't I?"

"Yes," Luke mumbled. "I promise to be good and to act like a gentleman." 

"Good. Now, we better hurry up if we're going to have time for chores and get you ready to go to the train station," Benjamin said brightly. 

Luke perked up with the thought of today's adventure, and as the boys walked outside into the brisk, September morning air, Luke chattered animatedly about the train station.

"Thomas knows all about trains. He told me how they work, and it's a very interesting topic."

"How so?" Benjamin asked. The boys were bent over, sprinkling a handful each of chicken feed on the ground, chickens clucking and scrambling to find the seeds.

"Well, trains always take people to the most wonderful places. I would love to get on a train and just ride and ride and ride it to a new land: one where I could be a prince, or a hero, or even just an ordinary boy with a loving family," Luke breathed. 

Benjamin looked hurt, and Luke didn't understand why—didn't he know how awful their family was? 

"Luke! Your family here loves you very much. And you better not let mother catch you talking about princes and witches and heroes—you know how she feels about such nonsense. Luke?"

"Yes?" He asked, looking up from the chicken he was tossing feed to.

"Promise me you will be good. I know you promised earlier, but I need to know that I can, in good conscience, leave you here with Mother and Father." 

Luke looked Benjamin straight in the eyes and promised to be good, and a gentleman, while she was away. Benjamin nodded his head in approval, and the boys headed back inside to get changed out of their work clothes.

At breakfast a little while later, Mrs. Hemmings, their mother, made an announcement. "Everybody listen up, I have something to say," she said brusquely, "I have decided Luke will not be accompanying us to the train station." 

Benjamin's eyes widened in alarm, and he jerked his head up from the oatmeal Luke had been watching him pick at. "Mother?"  
"What?! You have to let me come with you!" Luke shouted.

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Mrs. Hemmings said evenly. "I am the head of this household, and I make all of the decisions."  
Luke watched her look over to his father, daring him to defy her, but he didn't respond. He just got up from his seat and walked back out to the barn. "Typical," Mrs. Hemmings muttered under her breath.

"Mother? Why can't I go to the station with you. I love Benjamin more than you, anyways—you said yourself that it doesn't matter to you if Benjamin even comes back!"

Mrs. Hemming's eyes flashed, and her next words were like a punch in the stomach to Luke. "That is exactly why you cannot come to the station with us, Luke. You don't know how to hold your tongue, you never take even a moment to consider your appearance, everybody thinks you're delusional because of your pretending, and you are a disgrace to our family. The heathens Benjamin is going to save are probably better mannered than you are. Now, go get dressed for school." 

Luke obeyed, not shedding the tears burning in his eyes, but he stopped at the bottom of the staircase to eavesdrop on Benjamin's response.

"Mother! How can you say such terrible things to him!" she heard Benjamin say.

"They're only the truth, Benjamin dear."

Luke gasped, but quickly covered his mouth to conceal his location.

"What is going to happen to her while I'm away?" Benjamin asked. "Are you going to torment Luke and make him feel worthless, or are you finally going to step up and be his mother?"

"I've tried to be his mother, but he's a lost cause. When you're away maybe he will realize how childish he is compared to other boys his age." Luke's eyes narrowed, and he had to fight the urge to run into the kitchen and give his mother a piece of his mind.  
"So you're just going to basically abandon him, let him live alone?" Luke heard Benjamin wail.

"I'm not the one abandoning him—you are. If you stayed, he wouldn't be alone. Actually, even if you left he wouldn't be alone if you hadn't let the accident happen. But, I had no say in that matter," Mrs. Hemmings said.

"What accident?" Luke whispered to himself. 

A loud screech of a chair sliding on the hardwood floor interrupted the conversation. "We will resume this conversation later when I've collected myself," Benjamin said, so quietly Luke could barely hear him. "I don't want to regret anything I say." Benjamin fled the room and ran straight into Luke.

"Luke—" Benjamin began.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say to me!" Luke shouted, whipping his blond, feathery hair away from his face. She he past his brother and didn't stop running until he was outside to his father.

"Father, please tell mother I can accompany you to the train station!" He cried, flinging his body on his father. 

Mr. Hemmings stroked his sons messy hair. "Lukey-Pookie, I'm sorry, but we just can't go 'gainst what yer mother says. If she says ya gotta go to school, ya gotta go to school. Now, run along, ya don't wanta be late on the first day." 

Luke looked at his father sadly, tore himself away from his warm embrace, and sprinted down the road towards school, not caring that a gentleman didn't run. 

When he was about half way to the schoolhouse, he had to stop and catch his breath. He looked down and saw that his shiny black kid boots, and the bottom half of his pants was spattered with mud. _Mother is going to be so angry,_ Luke thought. _Especially since she specifically warned me not to get my clothes dirty in the mud puddles_. Luke desperately tried to think of a solution to his problem that wouldn't get him in trouble, but couldn't think of any. Wait! Why should I even try to please Mother? She doesn't like me anyways, and if she has to do more laundry because of my muddy pants, then so be it! It serves her right, he thought, anger coursing through his veins. Luke bent over and untied his black boots, which were almost brand new because Benjamin had outgrown them soon after they were purchased, and gently placed them under a crab apple tree. He peeled off his stockings and stuffed them in the toes of his boots. 

"There. Now my boots and stockings won't be ruined," he said cheerfully. Luke then did the worst thing he could think of to get back at his parents for treating him so unfairly—he scooped up handfuls of mud and wiped them all over himself.

When he had finished he inspected himself, a pleased grin on his face. Mud coated his arms, legs, feet, and was caked on his pants. he looked around and noticed the sun had crept high over the horizon while he had been occupied.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late for school!" He cried, taking off in the direction of the school yard. He sprinted past rows and rows of corn, potatoes, and grain, past the Hood's blueberry farm, past the Branigan's orchards, and finally through a small stretch of woods leading to the playground. 

When he came rushing into the playground, everyone stopped and stared at Luke. His face burning hot with embarrassment, Luke walked sullenly over to a big pine tree in the corner of the yard. His best friend Calum Hood was leaning against the trunk, squinting at Luke behind his silver rimmed glasses.

"Luke, why are you such a mess?"

"Because my family hates me. Calum, I just had the most horrible morning. I mean, it started out okay, but then my mother wouldn't let me—" 

"Yeah, yeah. You always have the same problems with your mother. My mother says your relationship isn't healthy, and that must be why you are so troubled, but that's a conversation for another time. Right now I really want to go join everyone by the see-saw."

"Really? The see-saw?" Luke asked, raising one eyebrow. The see-saw was where Sophia Beckham, the wealthiest girl in South Riverside, and her posse usually congregated. It was an unspoken rule that Luke and his two companions, Calum and Michael, were not allowed to join the other children.

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but there are three new kids. Two absolutely handsome boys, and the most adorable little girl I have ever seen." 

Luke rolled his eyes, but let her friend lead him over to where every other kid on the playground was gathered. "Excuse me! Excuse us! We are trying to see," Luke said, shoving her way through the crowd. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a golden, curly haired girl with blue eyes and a worn, frilly dress appeared before Luke and Calum.

"Hello, ladies."

"Hello, Sophia," Luke said through gritted teeth.

"I see you haven't changed over the summer at all. You are both still as ugly as ever, and Luke, you are definitely still a little, well, odd. Did you fall in a mud puddle this morning? And where are your shoes?"

"My shoes were taken from me by an evil witch. And yes, I did fall into a mud puddle this morning," Luke said, not wanting to admit to his earlier tantrum. Sophia gave him a look of utter disgust and let the boys pass by her to see the new kids. 

The three siblings all looked alike. They all had sandy blond hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and dimples in their smiles, but at the moment looked overwhelmed. When the younger boy, about age fourteen, spied Luke, his face lit up and he shot Luke a wide smile.

"Thomas, look at that boy. Isn't he beautiful?" he whispered to his older brother.

Luke frowned to tell them that he had overheard him, but the other brother continued to say, "Ashton, all I see is a boy covered head to toe in mud with dirty feet."

"Yeah, he is dirty," the little girl said.

Luke blushed as Thomas, the older boy, led his little sister away, warning her to stay away from troublemakers like that.

Ashton broke away from the throng of students surrounding him and hurried over to Luke. 

"Hi, I'm Ashton Fletcher Irwin, but you can call me Ashton."

"Hello. I'm Luke Hemmings," he replied, not in the mood to exchange pleasantries with this boy.

"So, where do you live? I live just down the road from here. This town is very different from Illinois, but I guess not too different. Although the town I used to live in was a lot richer than your town."

"Oh, it was? That's nice. I think it's time for class now."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." Ashton blushed, following Luke to the school house, trying desperately to make conversation.

"Ashton! Come over here a moment; you've got to see this frog," Thomas Irwin called to his brother. Ashton rushed over to him. Luke sighed in relief, but as soon as Ashton was gone, Luke was joined by Sophia.

"I saw you talking to Ashton," she said innocently.

"No, actually he was talking to me. I wasn't in the mood for talking."

"Oh, yes, that's right. Your brother Benjamin is leaving today, isn't he? Everyone thinks he's crazy, going off to Brazil by himself. My brother and I think he will be eaten by tigers within a month of being there," Sophia said.

"Sophia. You may not call my brother crazy. He is fulfilling his calling and doing God's work by helping the people there, and I'm going to be just like him," Rosemary said. 

"Oh, it's a good thing you want to be just like him. You're too ugly and queer for anyone to want to marry you."

Ashton, walking in the door of the school house, heard Sophia's last remark. Thinking he would be helping Luke win the argument, he said, "I would marry you, Luke." 

Luke's face contorted into a look of pure rage, and he turned on his heel to face Ashton. He glared at Ashton, and he smiled broadly back. Without a second thought, he raised his hand and slapped the new boy on the cheek, his hand leaving a mark on his face. 

Everyone in the class fell silent and turned their attention to Mr. VanHaram, the school teacher, who was standing behind Luke. His eyes took in his appearance, and he grimaced.

"Lucas Hemmings, would you like to tell me why you just hit Ashton on his first day of school?" 

After a moment of contemplation, Luke shook his head no. Mr. VanHaram scowled at Luke and marched him up the aisle to the front of the classroom.

"Insolence will not be tolerated here, young man. Now, you have one more chance to tell me and the class why you slapped Ashton, or you will receive five lashes, understood?" 

Luke remained silent. 

"Very well. I have no choice." Mr. VanHaram opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a ruler designated for punishing misbehaved children. Luke's eyes were fearful, but his back was straight, chin held high as he walked to the front of the room where the teacher was waiting. 

he held out his hand, and felt the hard snap of a ruler against the back of his hand ten times before he was allowed to sit down again. The room went silent—nobody had ever seen someone get his ten times before. Usually Mr. VanHaram reserved that punishment for the oldest boys who tended to get in trouble often, but this was the first time he had used it on a young boy like Luke. Ashton flashed him a smile to let him know he was proud of his courage, and he stuck his tongue out at him. 

"Okay class, please take put your slates and begin your writing exercise," Mr. VanHaram said. The classroom came alive with the shuffling of bodies, and the quiet scratching of chalk on slate. 

Luke soon grew restless, and his dominate hand was burning from the ruler that had reprimanded it. So, he began to doodle an unattractive picture of the teacher. He hadn't realized that Mr. VanHaram was patrolling the aisles, and when he saw the picture, his ears and face turned red.

Luke looked up in alarm, and Mr. VanHaram said, "Mr. Hemmings? What do you think you are doing?"

Calum smirked back with an I-told-you-so look, and Luke said, "I, umm, well, I—"

"I think it's time for you to go home now." 

Luke nodded sullenly and gathered his things before marching out the door and into the September sunshine. _I'm going to be in so much trouble,_ he thought glumly. _Wait! They won't be home yet, and I'll be able to clean up. Mother will never have to know!_ Luke continued down the road with a new spring in his step.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mother, please, stop trying to persuade me not to go. I am going to Brazil, and that is final. I have already told them I will be arriving on October first, and they are counting on me to replace the missionary that left," Benjamin told his mother.

"Well, you could just tell them you got cold feet, or engaged, or a case of smallpox, or we could send a letter saying you died unexpectedly from consumption," Mrs. Hemmings argued. 

Benjamin looked up at his mother from the floor he was scrubbing and gave her a skeptical look. "Why do you suddenly care if I leave or not, you told me just yesterday that you didn't care whether I even came back." 

Mrs. Hemmings sighed and sat down heavily at the table. She put her head in her hands and let out a long breath. She turned to face her son, tears glistening in her eyes. "Benjamin, I know that you think I hate you for what you did eight years ago, but I have realized it was not entirely your fault—it was mostly Luke's. Besides, you were my only child for six years, and I cherished you, and still love you dearly. It hurts me to let you go halfway across the world, and I was only being harsh because I hoped it would make you stay. Besides, Luke needs you here. Heaven knows he hates me, and for no good reason either!"

Benjamin sighed. "Mother, he doesn't hate you, he's only afraid to let you and father into his heart because you two have let him down so many times."

"What are you talking about? I gave him life, a home, put food on his table, mend his clothes, and even bought him some nice toys to play with."

"Yes, some of that is true, but those things are expected of a mother. You've never given him words of encouragement, you've never tried to make him into a gentleman, and you have never given him a reason to love you. Not to mention the fact that God is not a part of our family life at all—" Mrs. Hemmings interrupted Benjamin's rant.

"We go to church, and pray before we eat dinner!"

"Yes, but Christ is not a _part_ of our life, just an afterthought. So, Mother, yes I am going to Brazil because hopefully you will learn to be a good mother to Luke. Please, at least try."

"I will be a good mother if he is a good son."

"He's trying, and I can assure you that he won't pull any horrendous stunts like last year's ink-in-the-teachers-coffee. He's beginning to grow up—" 

The door flung open and Luke burst into the kitchen, his mouth gaping open in horror. "Uh, hello. I'm just going to go wash up outside now." He turned hastily to leave, but his mother's icy voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Lucas? Why are you so dirty—I thought I told you to stay out of the puddles. Also, why are you home, it's only ten o'clock."

"Ummm...well, I guess I fell in a mud puddle, and I got sent home because I, ummm, got in trouble." He started for the door, but Mrs. Hemmings clamped a hand on her sons shoulder.

"Why did Mr. VanHaram send you home?" 

Luke held out his slate to her mother. 

Mrs. Hemmings eyes narrowed when she saw the offensive drawing of Mr. VanHaram. "This is the only reason he sent you home? What else did you do?"

"Why do you always assume I did something else? Maybe he was just in a bad mood today because he couldn't see his brother off on the train?" 

Benjamin continued scrubbing the floors, tears streaking his vision because he knew he couldn't stop the harsh words coming.

"Do not talk back to me young man! Now, tell me, why did you get sent home?" 

Luke was quiet for a second, before he said quietly, "I slapped the new boy in the face."

"You did what?! Lucas Robert Hemmings I cannot believe you would do something so vulgar! You are in so much trouble young man, do you hear. Not only did you draw a horrible picture, ruin your nice clothes, have a tantrum, but you slapped a boy _you didn't even know!_ You are a disappointment to me, and I think it would have been better if you had been raised by savages. Maybe you should go with Benjamin, the people he's working with would probably love a new member of their tribe. You are grounded and..." Mrs. Hemmings screamed. 

The words stung Benjamin like a thousand little bee stings because he knew that although Luke wouldn't shed a tear or lower his defiant chin, he was still affected deeply by their mother's cruel words. 

When Mrs. Hemmings had finally finished, Luke pounded up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut. Benjamin followed and put his ear to the door. He stifled a sob as he listened to his sister talk to his imaginary friend. 

"I hate my mother," he heard him say. "And Benjamin's not much better than Mother, either. He's leaving me, and he didn't even try to stop Mother from yelling at me."

Benjamin waited for a few minutes before entering the room. He sat down on the bed next to Luke and tried to put his hand on Like's shoulder. Luke jerked away, arms folded across his chest.

"Luke, I know you're angry that you don't get to come to the train station with us, but slapping people is not the way to let out your frustration. I'm disappointed in you—you promised to be good while I was away. What you did this morning is making me have doubts about how well you can keep your word. You know the only way Mother is going to tolerate you is if you remember to be a gentleman and don't make a fuss while I'm gone. Now, can you do that? Luke, do you promise to be a gentleman when I'm gone?" 

His little brother remained silent.

"Luke? Please, say something to me!" Benjamin begged, not being able to stand the thought of leaving while his brother was so upset with him. 

He watched his brother stare stonily out the window, and after a moment Benjamin sighed sadly. "I know you're mad at me for leaving you, but I have to go. Now, it's time for me to leave if I want to catch the train. Please, be good while I'm gone." Benjamin gave Luke a kiss on the top of his head and stood to leave the room. At the door, he turned back with tears rolling down his face. "I love you, Luke. Goodbye." When Luke said nothing, he quietly shut the door, stifling a sob. 

****

A few minutes passed before Luke saw his family's buggy drive down the driveway. "Goodbye, Benjamin," Luke whispered. Looking out the window, he saw Benjamin look up and wave. Luke gave the slightest wave back, and then a single tear rolled down his face. He wiped it away angrily and turned away from the window. He laid down on his bed and eventually fell into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Mrs. Hemmings looked up from the sudsy dish in her hands when Mr. Hemmings, who had been out in the barn all morning, entered the small room and hung up his coat. Mrs. Hemmings wiped her hands dry and turned to face him. "John, could you please tell Luke that because of Benjamin's absence he will have twice as many chores every morning, and that if he doesn't hurry up, he will be left home to finish them while we go to church without him?"

Mr. Hemmings looked at Mrs. Hemmings in surprise. "Twice the chores? Are you sure that's wise, I mean, it is Sunday."

"Yes, that's what I have decided. If you have a problem with that, I could change it to three times as many chores." 

Mrs. Hemmings watched closely, but Mr. Hemmings knew better than to question her authority. "Well, I guess if that's what you've decided. I'll go tell him now."

"Make sure he also knows he's too old to play make believe. I heard him up there playing with that dreadful imaginary friend of his while he should be helping me out down here."

Mr. Hemmings nodded again and left to find Luke. He was sitting on his bed with with who Mr. Hemmings assumed was Little Kate, Luke's imaginary friend, whispering softly to her. "Lukey, I need you to listen to me," Mr. Hemmings said. He turned his attention to his Father, and he sighed.

It was obvious that Luke knew he was in trouble because he was trying his hardest to look as little and innocent as he could. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his body, and his sapphire eyes were widened.

Mr. Hemmings sat down on the bed beside his son and said, "You know why I am here, don't you?"

Luke shook his head no. Mr. Hemmings waited for a minute before Luke said, "Okay, but why can't I do funner chores like helping you out in the barn? And when we are done we could take Sally and Mr. Alfie out and ride them through the fields one last time before we get another bad Michigan winter!"

"Luke, funner isn't even a word, you are thirteen and expected to help out twice as much as usual because of Benjamin's absence, alright?"

Luke let out a long sigh and fled his attic bedroom. Mr. Hemmings leaned back against the wall, wishing he could do something to keep his family in tact. Benjamin had done more than they ever credited him for, and him being half way across the world brought forth multiple sets of problems. 

"Oh, Cordelia," he whispered into the empty air, "how did everything go so wrong? We've lost every son but Luke, and sometimes I wonder if we have already lost him with the way we've treated him so many years? I know that it's not entirely our fault, but it's been eight years, and we still haven't regained control of our family, at least not the control we had leading up to the accident." Mr. Hemmings heard quarreling downstairs, so he sighed again and rushed to the sight of the arguing. 

"No, I won't take back what I said!" Luke said, arms crossed.

Mr. Hemmings looked at his wife curiously. "Cordelia, what did he say?"

"Tell your father what you told me, tell him!" 

Luke mustered up an innocent look and smiled sweetly at his father. "I told her that I didn't want to get married."

Mr. Hemmings wrinkled his brow, and Mrs. Hemmings shrieked, "No, that's not all you said. You said that you weren't going to do your chores because you weren't going to get married, so you wouldn't cook and clean for this family because it wasn't going to help you in life."

"But it's true!"

"I will not tolerate such things in my house. You are almost thirteen, too old to be fancying such notions!"

"Fancying such notions?" Luke shouted. Mr. Hemmings backed off as Luke continued to yell at his wife. "I'm not playing pretend—I'm serious! Someday I'll be a missionary in Brazil, on a mission across the world, or doing great things in a big city far from here. You think I'm being unrealistic, but you have no idea of how far I'm willing to go in order to be nothing like you!"

"Well, even if you are never to get married, you are still currently a part of this family, so you must do your share of chores."

"Ugh! Why don't you understand! It's not my fault I got stuck with this family—don't you think living with you is bad enough?"

"We are going to church," Mr. Hemmings suddenly declared.

Mrs. Hemmings looked to him in shock, but slowly nodded in agreement. "Yes, that will be good, keep these crazy notions out of Luke's head, maybe teach him a few things about how other boys his age act."

"So, no chores?" 

"Lucas, don't you start this again, or I will burn that imaginary friend of yours so you learn a lesson about growing up and taking on responsibility. Do you hear me?"

"Burn Little Kate?"

"Yes."

Mr. Hemmings listened as Luke gathered up his pride and said exactly what Mrs. Hemmings was waiting for.

"Yes, Mother, I understand."


	4. Chapter 4

Mrs. Irwin stood from her pew and made her way towards a group of women forming near the back of the church. The ladies all welcomed her and asked her how she was adapting to life in South Riverside.

"Oh, we are doing just well. It's hard being so far from our family in Illinois, but we are making do just fine. My husband says that when harvesting time comes next year, we will be thankful that we did move. I do have to say, though, this town is smaller than I had expected."

"Yes, it is small, but our town has a close sense of community I s'pose you wouldn't find anywhere else."

"I can already feel your hospitality in the few weeks we've been here—our welcoming casserole and cookies were much appreciated, I can assure you of that."  
"It was nothing," Mrs. Branigan assured her.

"But it meant everything to us." Mrs. Irwin felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face her youngest son. 

"Mother, you wanted to meet Luke, didn't you?"

"Of course I want to meet him," Mrs. Irwin said. Her children had come home from school all week with stories of this boy, and she was ready to put a face to his name.

Ashton pointed Luke out to his mother, and Mrs. Irwin gasped. This boys hair was unbrushed, his clothes all askew, and he was anxiously trying to lose the grip of his mother as he was dragged out of the church.

"That is Luke?" She continued watching as a man, presumably Luke's father, followed his wife and son out the door.

"Yes," Ashton said, frowning. "I don't think Mrs. Hemmings seems like a very nice mother."

"Ashton Fletcher Irwin, don't you go chastising other people's parenting. Must I remind you that you are only fourteen years old? Until you experience parenthood yourself, you may not judge others." _I, though,_ Mrs. Irwin thought, _have every right to judge her for how she treats her son. I have raised my own sons and know the difficulties they bring about, but I also know that Mrs. Hemmings isn't acting as a loving mother ought to act._

"Does that always happen?" Mrs. Irwin asked the group of ladies. 

"Oh yes, that's the reason none of our children are allowed to associate with Luke," Mrs. Sandler said.

Mrs. Irwin frowned and said, "I was talking about his mother."

"Oh." Mrs. Sandler seemed a little taken back by Mrs. Irwin's comment, as if there was an unsaid rule that nobody should intervene with Mrs. Hemmings' parenting techniques.

"Well," Mrs. Mackerall said, "I guess she has just always been this way, at least ever since the accident eight years ago."

"Accident?" Mrs. Irwin asked.

"Yes, but after the event took place, she asked the town to forget about it for Luke's sake. We no longer talk about it, and I shouldn't have even brought it up in the first place. I just thought that you should know, so you don't judge the Hemmings' or their parenting."

Mrs. Irwin pursed her lips, lost in thought. She didn't believe that anything could be reason enough to treat your son poorly, but she kept these thoughts to herself. "Come along, Ashton, we need to find your father and siblings."

Ashton followed his mother and then said, after a moment of silence, "I'm going to try to be nice to Luke this week at school."

"Weren't you nice to him this week?"

"I tried, but the other boys' games were more interesting, and all the other kids, save Michael and Calum, stay away from him."

"Playing with someone isn't the only way to show them that you care about them," Mrs. Irwin told her son.

"How else, then?"

"Well, you could smile at him and maybe compliment him on the things he does well. Anything you can think of that will show him God's love."

"Hmmm, could I make a list of why I love him?"

Mrs. Irwin refrained from laughing at her son's comment, and she said, "That's a good idea, Ashton. That's a good idea."


	5. Chapter 5

"Isaiah, why don't we go play with them?" Ashton said the next day at recess.

Isaiah looked across the school grounds to where he was pointing. "Are you talking about them?"

"Yeah, they can't be that bad."

"My Father told me that I wasn't allowed to talk, play, or associate with Luke because he is 'bad news.'"

"Bad news? My mother told me that I had to be nice to him because he acts out in response to not having a strong family life. What good would avoiding him do?"

"If you want to play with him, fine by us, we won't judge you," Jeremiah said. "Just between you and I, all the girls thinks he is the one of the handsomest boys the in school, but the rest of aren't all ugly, and we at least act our age."

Ashton sighed. "Are you sure you don't wanna play with them?"

"Yes."

Ashton walked over to where Sarah was sitting with her friends and said, "Come along, Sarah, we have a mission to complete."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Really? I can play with you and your friends?"

"No, our mission is making new friends."

Sarah's face fell slightly. "Alright, I guess I will help you, but only because Mother told us to be nice to Luke."

Ashton and his sister walked over to Luke, Calum, and Michael. "Hello," he said. 

Luke looked up and glared. "Why are you over here? We have a very important adventure to go on, and I don't need you two to waste any of our precious time."

"Precious time? Luke, playing pretend is for babies—why can't we just sit and talk like all the other thirteen year olds are doing?" Calum asked.

"I'm not thirteen yet," Luke said, "and what would we even talk about?"

"I don't know, but my mother says that—"

"I don't care what your mother says, I've got my own mother to listen to!"

"Please stop fighting," Sarah whispered.

Calum and Luke looked down, and for the first time noticed the little girl standing next to her brother. "Luke, look what you've done! Now you're gonna make a little girl cry!"

"I'm not little," Sarah said. "I'm eight years old—and I will not cry because Ashton and I are on a mission!"

"A mission for what?"

Ashton glared at his sister. "It's a secret," he said.

"Really?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, but I can tell you one thing about it that won't give away the secret." Ashton tried to stop his sister, but before he could, Sarah said, "Ashton is writing a list of ten reasons of why he loves you, Luke."

Ashton groaned inwardly.

"Ashton," Luke said, "I will not even look at that list until you have ten reasons—but since you will never think of that many, you might as well spend your time elsewhere." For precautionary measures, Luke added, "And by the way, I'm never getting married because I am going to be a missionary in Brazil."

Ashton smiled slightly to himself; why would he be bothered that Luke wanted to be a missionary when he grew up? And did Luke really believe that he couldn't think up ten reasons? Was he going to prove him wrong or what!

"Ashton, why are you staring at me like that!"

Ashton looked up in surprise. He had actually been staring into space, but before he could explain, he noticed that Jeremiah was right; Luke was actually a very handsome boy. His sapphire eyes were the first thing Ashton noticed on his first day, since eyes like those were impossible to not notice, but Ashton had missed how beautiful he was aside from his eyes. His blond hair, which is longer than most other boys he knew, flew everywhere, but were pretty all the same. He also emanated a sense of adventure and excitement, but no matter how hard Ashton tried to explain it to Thomas later that day, he just couldn't find the right words.

"Ashton!" Luke was shouting now.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Ashton apologized, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's just I was trying to think of what to add to my list when I realized how handsome you are."

Luke gasped. He turned around and marched back to the classroom without another word to Ashton or his other friends. 

Ashton watched him leave, half wanting to go after him. He didn't and instead turned to Michael. "Was it something I said?"

Michael snorted. "Are you kidding me? Of course it was something you said—everyone has the sense not to compliment Luke, especially about his looks!"

Ashton's shoulders slumped. My simple goal was to make Luke feel loved—now he just hates me! 

"Come on, Ashton," Sarah said, pulling at Ashton's arm. "The kids are lining up now, and we need to get inside for class.

Ashton slowly followed Sarah towards the one room school house, all the while pondering over the mysteries of Lucas Hemmings.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning this one has nothing to do with Lashton at all. This chapter focuses on Benjamin's life in Brazil so if you don't want to read about that feel free to skip this chapter.

"G'day mister, I hope you have a good stay," a squat sailor said to Benjamin. He tipped his hat as he stepped off the ship and onto the wooden unloading dock. 

"Thank you, sir," he replied graciously. He smiled, breathing in the fresh, salty air. He had been cramped in the passenger boat for precisely forty-one days without any glimpse of the sun or a breath of fresh air, and he was glad to finally be off of the boat. However, Benjamin was squinting in the bright Brazilian afternoon sunlight, and already the sticky heat was pressing around his body, making it hard for him to breathe. 

When he reached the ground, the full cacophony of noise hit him at full effect, and his senses were overloaded with new sights, sounds, smells, and faces. Palm trees lined the edge of the beach, and the sapphire blue ocean sparkled behind him. Birds screeched and monkeys could be heard howling in the distance, and the natural sounds of the jungle mixed with men's voices calling out in Portuguese to one another. The men were all heavily tanned and a few scraggly children ran about the square through the throngs of new arrivals. As he moved through the crowd of people greeting him, he was filled with a feeling of peace and said a silent prayer to his Heavenly Father, thanking him for sending him to this place that already felt like home. 

"Benjamin Hemmings? Is there an Benjamin Hemmings anywhere?" He heard a rich voice call out in English from somewhere in the crowd.

"Yes? I'm over here. Benjamin is right over here!" he called, waving his arm that wasn't hauling his trunk and carpet bag. 

"Just wait right there, Benjamin. Annabel and I will come to you," the faceless voice called out again.

"Okay, I'm near a little stand with a yellow and red striped roof," he offered helpfully.

"We know, we can see you," a voice said just behind him. He turned around and came face-to-face with a blue eyed, blonde haired man smiling down at her with dazzling white teeth.

"Hello, mister. I'm Samuel from the mission society of America. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, extending a hand.

"I'm Benjamin Thomas Hemmings, and it's a pleasure to be here," he replied, rewarding him with a smile that lit up his face. This time it was a beautiful woman who stepped forward. She had dark skin, coarse black hair, and warm brown eyes.

"Hello, my name is Annabel Antonelli, and it's a blessing to have you here with us."

"It's a blessing to be here, and I'm pleased to meet you," he replied graciously.

"Well, we better get moving if we want to get back to camp before nightfall," Samuel said.

"Yes, I suppose we should. Come on, Benjamin we'll show you the way to the boat," Annabel said. Benjamin picked up his carpet bag. Samuel easily lifted his trunk off the ground and took the carpet bag out of Benjamin's capable arms. He turned on his heel and gaily sauntered off towards the jungle that was looming just beyond the outskirts of the small square. Annabel frowned slightly in his direction.

"Pardon me, but why did Samuel take my bag from me?" Benjamin asked.   
Annabel looked at him as they began walking after Samuel. "Samuel, and many of the other missionaries here, think that they're better than the newcomers. You see, they believe that since they have been here for longer so they believe that makes them better." Annabel noticed Benjamin's horrified expression and smiled gently at him. "The way they think doesn't make them bad people. No, the missionaries on our team are wonderful, compassionate, God-loving individuals. They just don't understand some things, like this one in particular. We are just here to bring the natives, like myself, into the light and make them realize that their lives will be so much better with God in their hearts. Do you understand?" She helped Benjamin into a canoe that was just large enough to fit his belongings, himself, and the missionaries accompanying him.

Benjamin nodded, but throughout the whole five hour journey through the rainforest and back to camp, he was pondering Annabel's words. He was so troubled that he didn't even notice the tropical vegetation all around him, or the strange, beautiful species of animals that were scampering, running, jumping, flying, and slithering through the jungle. He was troubled because if the missionaries thought of themselves as better than others, how could they truly be helping anyone find Jesus? 

By the time they arrived, Benjamin's traveling clothes were damp with sweat, his face was flushed, and he had angry mosquito bites all over himself. Despite these discomforts, however, he was at peace. He had come to the conclusion that his purpose for being here was to not only change the hearts of the natives, but to change the hearts of the missionaries as well.

"We're here!" Samuel announced. He helped Benjamin out of the cramped boat and lifted his belongings out as well. Benjamin let the men lead him down a narrow path through the jungle, and when they emerged from the stifling humidity and darkness that blanketed the rainforest, Benjamin gasped. Stars sparkled in the sky like a million fairy lights, and a large moon hung over a village filled with a hundred grass huts. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Annabel said. 

Benjamin nodded dumbly.

"This way to our huts, Benjamin. Everyone's waiting to meet you, I'm sure." Samuel said. Benjamin followed him to a small cluster of huts that Annabel informed him belonged to the mission group. A campfire was crackling merrily in the darkness, and around it sat about twenty individuals. Their low chatter stopped when Benjamin stepped into the clearing, and Samuel announced that the new recruit had arrived. A middle aged woman, who had auburn hair, compassionate eyes, and a warm smile, stood up and walked over to Benjamin. A middle aged man with the same compassionate expression followed closely behind her. Benjamin shook hands with both of them.

"Hello, Benjamin. My name is Jennifer Locke and this is my husband Robert. We are the heads of this mission group and are so glad to have you here with us. Why don't you go meet everyone else and we'll give you your job assignments tomorrow morning, alright?"

"Okay. It's nice to meet you as well, and I can't wait to get started."

Benjamin went around the circle, exchanging greetings and pleasantries. He learned that he would be sharing a hut with another boy who was nineteen, just a year older than himself, named James. Benjamin knew he would like James because he was cheerful and very talkative. He also seemed to have a strong will, much like that of Luke. Thinking of his brother back at home all by himself caused a wave of grief to wash over him, and Benjamin excused himself from the crowd, saying he was tired, which he realized he was.

In his small hut Benjamin found that Samuel had been kind enough to place his belongings at the foot of his cot. He crossed the room to his trunk and knelt down near it. He opened the top and pulled out a comb, a set of night clothes, and a picture of Luke he had taken from the family's mantle. 

In the picture Luke looked much younger because it had been taken on the day of his baptism two years ago. Benjamin had been so proud when Luke had decided to get baptized, but looking back, he realized Luke hadn't grown his faith at all since. Thinking of his younger brother being back at home, alone, scared, confused, and totally at the mercy of their mother brought tears to Benjamin's eyes. He shook his head, refusing to cry over Luke again. He had left Luke to come here, and it would be unfair to his brother if he didn't do whatever task he was given with his best effort. Benjamin placed the picture back inside his trunk and began to comb out his hair, wondering what the next day would bring.

****

The next morning Benjamin found himself in a mild debate with Jennifer.

"Well, I guess there isn't a reason you can't help the other men, but wouldn't you be more comfortable starting out in the kitchen? We normally start our new recruiters in the Kitchen and allow them to change to a different position when the time comes. We always enjoy another set of hands to get the cooking done faster," Jennifer said.

Benjamin looked around the cramped hut designated as the kitchen, and he knew that they were probably better off without an extra body to complicate meal preparations. "Where do you need the most help, in general." 

_I have spent the past six years slaving away in our kitchen back home, and I will not do the same here if I am needed somewhere else,_ Benjamin thought to himself.

"What we really need," Jennifer answered, "is another worker to help with the fishing and building, but I doubt that you would want those types of chores, you look like you'd be more comfortable in the kitchen."

Benjamin kept a straight face and said in a feigned pleasant voice, "I am capable of far more than you can imagine. Yes, I am only eighteen, but my life has had it's share of hardships that have taught me many things."

Jennifer laughed and threw her hands up in surrender. "All right, you can help the other men. For now, though, how about you spend the next hour getting used to the area. And remember, please don't venture too far away from the village or you might find yourself lost—or worse."

Benjamin left the hot, smoky hut, trying not to think about what "or worse" could have meant. As he passed the group of men, he tried not to look over at them because she could feel their stares burning into the back of her neck. After a few minutes of discomfort, Benjamin gave up and headed to the small hut he shared with James. _At least here nobody will be staring at me because I don't belong._

Once inside, he sat on his small cot and took out the small black and white picture of Luke. Tears filled Benjamin's eyes, and he whispered a prayer asking God to watch over his brother and to give himself the strength and courage to adapt to this foreign lifestyle. 

These next few weeks would be difficult, and Benjamin knew that he needed God's help to get through each day while showing these missionaries what he was capable of—showing them that Benjamin Thomas Hemmings didn't back down when times got difficult. 

He was right when he told Jennifer that he had been through many difficulties that had taught him many things. _I mean, I have held my family together single-handedly ever since the accident so many years ago, and I have practically raised Luke on my own. If I could do all that, I can for sure handle a mission group of God-loving people._ So with those thoughts, Benjamin held his head up high and exited his hut to face whatever challenges the rest of the day would bring.


	7. Chapter 7

Fall eventually said goodbye and winter came in full swing. The cluster of pine trees that Luke, Calum, Michael, and occasionally Ashton met by was soon transformed into a four foot snow drift, and Calum and Michael refused to play there and risk spending the rest of the day soaked in snow. 

So, as Christmas neared, their attentions became more revolved around the annual Christmas pageant, and less on their games of pretend, which Calum still claimed they were much to old for. Luke had long since let go of his grudge towards Ashton and his list of why he loved him because in truth, he could play pretend better than Calum and Michael combined. 

It was the morning before the pageant, and Ashton was nervously pacing the kitchen, reciting his lines to his mother as she worked.  
"Ashton Irwin, if you don't stop talking and sit and eat something, you will be hoarse all night and faint from hunger. Now sit."

Ashton sat next to Thomas and John at the table. "Where's Elisabeth and Sarah?"

"They are upstairs mending Sarah's church dress—she tore a hole in it last Sunday."

"I still wish someone else could be Mary," Ashton grumbled. "I don't even like pretending I'm married to her."

"I'm sure Sophia will be a wonderful Mary," Mrs. Irwin said, setting a plate of eggs in front of her son.

"No she won't, Mother," Thomas said. "Sophia's almost as bad as Luke. She is snooty and acts as though she owns the entire town, just because her father isn't a farmer," Thomas said. 

"Well," John said, "I hope you two treat her with God's love and show her how just because were farmers doesn't make us any worse mannered than anyone else."

"We aren't mean to her, we just ignore her."

"She's too clingy," Ashton said.

"Honey, she probably just likes you, so don't reject her affections too hard," Mrs. Irwin said. 

Thomas smiled and said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "Yeah, Ashton, 'cuz you sure know how it feels to be rejected by someone you like."

Mrs. Irwin raised her eyes in surprise. "You talking about Luke?"

"Yes Mother," Ashton said, "but I don't like him, I love him—just like you told me to. Although he hasn't been the nicest back, I'm still trying real hard, and I think he might be getting better." 

"You mean he hasn't come to school again looking like a mud pie," Thomas said.

"He's getting better, and better is better, no matter how far he has to go."

"Ashton, are you going to touch those eggs?"

Ashton frowned. "Probably not. I just don't know how I'm going to eat with all my nerves about tonight."

"Well, you run along and start your chores, and I'll keep these on the stove for when you're done, alright? And after chores I would like you to quick run over to Jacob's to see if they have any extra sugar we can borrow for tomorrow's pies, alright?"

"Are Jacob and Lucy coming to the pageant tonight?" Sarah asked, eyes sparkling, prancing into the kitchen with her newly mended dress in hand.

Mrs. Irwin laughed and took the dress from her daughter. "Isn't this beautiful, thank you, Elisabeth, I'm so glad I can count on you."  
Elisabeth mumbled something about how it wasn't too much work, and she took the place her mother had left by the stove. While she continued preparing food, Ashton watched Mrs. Irwin bend to Sarah's eye level. "Why wouldn't Jacob and Lucy be coming tonight to see you in the angel children's choir?"

"I just thought that maybe Jacob would be too busy with his family that he couldn't come anymore to our school and church events," Sarah trailed off.

Mrs. Irwin wrapped her arms around her daughter and said in a soothing voice, "Sarah, remember what Lucy told you last August? Even though they are going to become parents soon and have children of their own, you will still be very special to them because you are always going to be Jacob's youngest sister."

Sarah smiled. "Good, because I am going to be the best baby angel there ever was!"

"Also the most humble," Ashton said, grinning.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him and picked her dress up again before running back up to her bedroom.  
Mrs. Irwin laughed and then shooed the boys out to barn. 

Ashton spent the next several hours helping with chores, anticipating the pageant, and oddly enough, thinking of Luke. Ever since Thomas had brought up Luke at breakfast that morning, he had tried to puzzle over whether his motives for loving Luke had more to do than just obeying his mother. 

Ashton, eager after a day of such questions, joined Luke, Calum, and Michael as soon as he arrived to the pageant. Luke had been trying desperately to get his friends on board with a game he hoped to play at recess, and his eyes lit up as he saw Ashton. He beckoned him over and immediately started trying to convince him that he had the one of a kind game they simply had to play at recess once winter break ended.

Ashton watched him talk, and something stirred in his heart. As Luke was talking, he noticed a glimmer of he'd never seen before in his shocking sapphire eyes, and Ashton realized that he had never seen Luke happy. In the four months he had known him, he had never truly smiled or laughed, and Ashton's goals shifted slightly as he decided to put an end to Luke's misery. Yes, he still wanted to obey his mother, but he also wanted to love Luke so that he could share the moment that Luke finally found a reason to be happy.

"Ashton? Did you just come over here to stare at me, or are you going to listen to this amazing idea?"

Ashton blushed and said, "No, I'm listening."

"All right, so what do you think about my idea? You don't agree with Michael and Calum, do you?"

Ashton was about to tell Luke that his idea was great, no matter what they said, but Mr. VanHaram silenced the entire room. "Listen up, I need everyone to gather together according to their roles. Joseph and Mary get ready for the first scene, angels please make your way to the back corner, sheep go over—Lucas!" he barked.

"What's the matter?" He asked, "I'm listening to you, I promise!"

"I understand that you're listening to me, but you didn't listen to me in class the many times I reminded you all to come prepared tonight, costume in all."

"But I don't own any sheep costumes!" 

The kids all started to laugh, and Luke's face turned to a scowl. Mr. VanHaram rubbed his temples slowly, as if he was on the verge of a headache from the trouble Luke brought him. He let out a deep sigh and said, "Luke, you were supposed to pick up your costume before school let out—of course I didn't expect you to have your own costume!" More snickers arose from the group of children around them, and Mr. VanHaram said, "We have some extra costumes in the back. You better hurry and get dressed and not cause anymore trouble or else I will see to it that you are never to participate in another pageant again. Am I clear?" Luke nodded, and Mr. VanHaram yelled, "Places everyone, places!"

Ashton watched Luke walk to the back, dragging his feet as to slow himself down, and picked up the dreaded sheep costume. The costume was an itchy, one size fits all, painted gunnysack, and Ashton could see why Luke hated it so much. He pulled it over his clothes and made his way to where the other sheep were standing, but was stopped by Sophia.

Ashton watched with clenched fists as Sophia said, "Hello, Lucas, you look awfully ugly in that sheep costume."

"Why thank you, Sophia, you look ugly as well," Luke said.

"Excuse me? This dress is brand new and, as my mother says, puts all the other girls to shame."

"Well that's funny, because somehow you've managed to look ugly in the prettiest dress I've ever seen," Luke shot back. 

"Luke, everyone knows that I don't look ugly. You are jealous of my pretty dresses and golden curls, and I understand completely. I would be jealous too if I looked as hideous as you."

"What did you say, Sophia?" Ashton finally asked, stepping into their conversation. 

"I said that Luke looks ugly in that sheep costume. Wouldn't you agree?" Sophia asked, flipping her long curls behind her shoulder.  
Ashton frowned. "No, I don't agree. Luke isn't ugly, he's the most beautiful person here. You know why? Because unlike you, he has a beautiful heart, which makes him beautiful—even in a hideous sheep costume."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Luke asked.

Ashton shook his head yes, and Luke stomped away to stand by the rest of the sheep.

"Oh Ashton, don't let Luke bother you," Sophia said in a sweet, sappy voice. 

"You know what, Sophia?" Ashton said. "I can take care of myself."

Ashton turned to face a different direction, one that didn't include Sophia or Luke. He didn't realize that Sophia was being difficult out of jealously, and maybe if he would have, the night would have ended different. But he ignored her, not knowing that Sophia had set her mind that if she couldn't have Ashton's love, neither would Luke. 

****

The curtains opened and Luke listened backstage as the play ran smoothly for the first half. When Luke's scene arrived, he crawled onto stage with all the other sheep. Luke made eye contact with Sophia, and he scowled at Sophia's sweet smile.

The narrator's loud voice reached across the audience with clarity, saying, "Then the shepherds returned to their sheep, praising God and telling everyone about the amazing things they had seen."

As the shepherds turned to leave, Sophia stood up and the audience's attention fell on her. Ashton slowly stood as well and whispered, "Sophia, we still have the wise men to go before we are done."

Sophia laughed and said, "Oh, no, Joseph, I don't think we are going to be done anytime soon. I have a question for you."

Luke rose to his feet, and everyone, on stage and off, stared at Sophia in nervous anticipation, trying to listen keenly to what she was saying.

"Yes, Mary?" Ashton's voice was calm, but his eyes were wild and full of confusion.

Sophia put a hand on Ashton's shoulder and said, "Joseph, have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Luke watched as Ashton pulled back from Sophia. She grabbed a hold of his arm, saying, "Joseph, listen to me." Ashton scanned the audience, whose eyes were all set onto him. Luke could tell he was terrified as Sophia continued. "I love you, love you more than any of the hideous sheep do in the fields over there."

"What? I don't know what you are talking about?" Ashton scowled, "I don't see any hideous sheep over there, and why would a sheep love love me?" 

Uneasy laugher arose from the audience, and Luke took a step forward, hands on his hips. 

"The real question," Sophia said, "is why would you love someone hideous and good for nothing? You still don't know who I'm talking about, take a closer look—there is one person in particular that fits the description. You know who I'm talking about, don't you? Luke, the hideous, penniless, dirty, wretched boy that is no better than a sheep." 

Luke didn't care anymore. Everyone already thought he was a disgrace to the town, so he had nothing to lose. He marched over to Sophia and screamed, "Nobody talks about me that way, and nobody picks on my friends like that! Leave him alone and go back to the script."

"Oh look, he has come to see baby Jesus—wait—actually he's come purely out of jealousy."

Luke set his face into another scowl and took a hold of Sophia, one hand in a death grip on her arm, the other clenched around her precious locks of hair. In one swift motion, Luke pushed Sophia down in the direction of the stable. Sophia let out a yelp and fell onto the stable, watching in horror as the flimsy structure crashed overhead. 

"Sissy!" a little voice yelled. Five year old Alexander came running to his big sister, and Mrs. Beckham climbed the stage and ran through the chaos to get to her children. All the baby angels were now crying, except for Sarah, who managed to retain a straight face through it all.

Lily Singer, Sophia's best friend, ran to see if she was okay. When she arrived to her side and saw the blood dripping down the side of her face and arm, Lily went pale before throwing up everything she had ate that day. A chorus of screams arose from the students, and Lily's mother crinkled her nose as she helped her daughter exit the stage. 

Luke continued to scream at Sophia, taking the chance to get back at her when she couldn't say or do anything in return. 

Mrs. Beckham finally turned from her daughter's side and grabbed Luke by the arms, her long fingernails digging into Luke's skin as she personally escorted Luke off stage. Luke squirmed in discomfort, but he couldn't get out of her grip. He was set in a chair near the back of the room, and before he could run back onstage, Mr. VanHaram came out of nowhere and sat next to him.

he straightened her posture and said casually, "We really should have rehearsed this a little more, don't you agree?" He looked up at his cold, dark stare and fell silent. 

Now that Luke was no longer on stage, the chaos calmed down, and normalcy started to return. Sophia's head and arm had been bandaged, Lily had a waste basket by her side, and all the kids were dismissed to their parents. The stage was a mess, but nobody paid it any attention. 

Luke got up and headed for the door. He gazed around the room once more before leaving, and his heart sank. Everybody was gathered by their parents, some scolding, some comforting, some shaking their heads in disappointment. Luke should have been happy that his parents weren't there to see the mess he had made, but as she watched Mrs. Irwin talk in hushed tones to Ashton, Thomas, and Sarah, Luke almost missed his parents. Not the parents he had, but the parents everybody else seemed to have, the kind who could show love and disappointment simultaneously.

"Lucas Hemmings, don't you leave this mess alone. I am going to make sure that your parents know every detail about this event you have disgraced upon our community, understood?"

Luke bit her his and nodded. He waited for Mr. VanHaram to come escort him home, but something amazing happened. Ms. Franny, an elderly widow, friend of Benjamin, and close neighbor, confronted Mr. VanHaram. They talked for a minute before Ms. Franny walked over to Luke and informed him that she would be escorting him home in the place of Mr. VanHaram.

"Why?" Luke asked.

Ms. Franny thought for a while, and didn't answer until they were outside and well down the dirt road. "I am escorting you home because I remember a time long ago when you were undeniably happy. I remember you dancing around your front lawn with your best friend, and I pray that someday you find that happiness again." 

"Calum and I never played together that happily," Luke said, "even when we were little." 

Ms. Franny was quiet for a long moment. "No, you and Calum never did get along."

"Then why did you say—?"

"Luke, let's just get you home," she said. 

Ms. Franny's voice was harsh, and Luke pouted and said, "Do you have to tell? I try so hard, but every time I do something goes wrong!"

Ms. Franny smiled in reflective memory. "You know, that sounds like something your brother once told me."

"Really?" That didn't sound like Benjamin at all. "Are you saying he was like me when he was twelve?"

"Not exactly, but I have a feeling that he might have been if he hadn't been forced to grow up so young."

"Mother is forcing me to grow up," Luke said. "I just don't understand! They want me to grow up, but they treat me as a child still and never tell me anything."

Ms. Franny stopped and turned to Luke. She smiled sadly and said, "Child, sometimes with understanding comes growing up and taking on grown up responsibilities, at least that's how it was for your brother."

"What do you mean? What forced her to grow up?"

"Remember what I told you about understanding coming with growing up?" Luke nodded and Ms. Franny said, "Unfortunately that applies here as well. Your brother has been through a lot, and you should be proud of him and all he's done for you."

"But he left me!"

"Honey, I've been helping your brother since he was young, and I know that he loves you almost more than anything else in the world."

"Than why'd he leave me?"

"Because he loves God more. Oh, it was hard for him to leave, yes, but he knew that it was God's plan for his life. You do realize how much courage that took?"

Luke's bottom lip quivered, and he was barely able to choke out, "I didn't help any, did I? I didn't even say goodbye!"

"He knows you love him, though, I know he does."

"I hope so, I used to wish that he could really be my father, just him and no mother—I know the Bible says I'm s'posed to love and honor my mother and father, but they are kinda terrible, aren't they?"

"They've been through hard times, just like Benjamin and most anybody else in this hard world."

"But why couldn't they have gotten through those hard times with love and patience, like Benjamin?"

"Why didn't you get through the pageant with love and patience instead of ruining the entire production and getting banned from any future play or pageant?"

"Oh." Luke blushed, realizing where Ms. Franny was going with this. "I still wish you didn't have to tell my mother."

"I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. And look on the bright side—at least Mr. VanHaram won't be the one telling her."

"Thank you, but no bright side can make this not the worst Christmas of my life."

"Oh, you've had worse, I'm sure, just not that you remember."

Before he could ask for an explanation, Ms. Franny walked up to the Hemmings' front door and knocked a rhythm of five knocks all in a row. Luke hung his head and shame and counted the seconds until his fate would be decided. One. Two. Three—

The door flung open and Mrs. Hemmings stood in the doorway. "Thank you, Ms. Franny for walking our son home from the pageant, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to attend the pageant, but with this terrible cold—Luke, what's the matter?" Her fists immediately went to her hips, and her eyes glazed over in fury. "What did you do this time?!"

"Please," Ms. Franny countered, "I'll explain, but I'd like to talk to you and your husband alone."

"Alright, Luke, you are grounded even though I have no clue what you've done this time. Now get to bed, don't just stand there, go!"

Luke slipped out of the room, but stopped once he reached the staircase. He sat on the top step, listening to the conversation being carried out in the kitchen. Unlike most conversations regarding Luke's wrongdoings, this one was in hushed tones. Luke couldn't make out what Ms. Franny was saying, but her voice was almost frantic, as if she were pleading with the Hemmings' to take what she was saying into consideration. 

"No, I will not tell him!" Mrs. Hemmings said loudly. More hushed voices followed this outburst, and then the sound of sobbing pierced the air. Luke tried to make out what exactly the conversation was about, but he couldn't make out anymore words. Luke stayed at the bottom of the staircase until he heard the kitchen door open and close again, an obvious sign that the conversation was over. 

Luke scrambled up the stairs as he heard the sound of footsteps crossing the house. Luke jumped in bed, day clothes and all, and closed his eyes, praying that sleep would overtake him soon so he wouldn't have to think about all the questions racing circles in his mind. Questions that, according to Ms. Franny, when understood would force him to finally grow up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If at any point this says car I meant train. As I was writing it I forgot cars weren't invented yet... That is all :)

The next morning, Christmas, Mrs. Hemmings was surprisingly nonchalant with the disaster that had happened the night before. Mr. Hemmings had delivered the news to Luke that he was grounded, but he also informed him that he was still allowed to partake in the family's Christmas celebrations. 

Even though they didn't do anything out of the ordinary, Luke was filled with a positive attitude, in expectations of the few presents he hoped to receive. As the morning progressed, he waited on pins and needles for his presents, and eventually sat impatiently on the couch in the living room, staring hard at his mother. 

It didn't work—Mrs. Hemmings simply picked up a basket of clothes and started mending the family's socks as if today was any old day.

Luke sighed. _It's Christmas—I've said so about a dozen times today! Has she forgotten about presents or Christmas entirely?_

Mr. Hemmings entered the room and asked his son what was on his mind. 

"Well, we've eaten breakfast, finished all our chores, so..."

"Lucas, quit mumbling," Mrs. Hemmings said without even looking up from the sock in her hands.

"Well, usually after breakfast and chores on Christmas morning we open up presents, so I was wondering when we were planning on doing that this year."

Mrs. Hemmings set the sock down and slowly stared up at her son. "What did you say?"

Luke heard the edge in his mother's voice, and he hesitated before answering. "I wanted to know when we were planning on opening presents today."

"Lucas, you will be thirteen in March, too old for frivolous things like presents—and you are grounded! What makes you think that you deserve a present after everything you did yesterday?"

"Well, that's the funny thing about presents—you aren't supposed to deserve them. They are a 'I love you and even though you didn't earn it, here you go' kind of thing."

"Luke, nothing you say will change my mind!" Mrs. Hemmings' voice softened slightly, and she said, "but there is something your brother sent us. John, should we let Luke see what Benjamin sent us in our last letter?"

"Letter?" A hopeful grin emerged on Luke's face. "Did he send me a letter, too?" 

"Luke, I was talking to your father. And yes, you have a letter waiting for you upstairs, but you can wait to read it until later." 

Mr. Hemmings smiled. "Of course he may see what Benjamin sent us."

Mrs. Hemmings took out a thin envelope and studied it for a moment. Luke wondered what she was thinking, but he was smart enough not to ask. It was a few moment before she reluctantly handed it over to her son.

Luke took the envelope from his mother's hand and reached into it. His mind was burning with anticipation, but he made sure to act calm so that his mother wouldn't see just how anxious he was. He slowly pulled out a thick piece of paper. He turned it over and bit his lip to keep his tears from coming. Printed on the paper was a black and white picture of Benjamin standing alongside a large group of missionaries. The sight of his brother, the only person who loved him unconditionally, brought forth so many emotions. He gulped and said, "This was very nice of him."

Mrs. Hemmings nodded and snatched the picture from Luke's hands. "Yes, it is great to see Benjamin so happy with the life he's chosen over us."

"Can I go read Benjamin's letter now?" Luke asked.

"No, I need your help with lunch preparation. You can read his letter tonight, alright?"

"Alright," Luke said. He knew he had no chance of getting out of his chores, so he reluctantly stood up and asked, "What would you like me to do first?"

**** 

Mr. Hemmings was filled with grief as he noticed what was sitting on the dresser in his bedroom. He walked closer to see if he was right—he was. 

"Cordelia, I thought we were over this?" he whispered. We don't have enough money to buy Luke anything for Christmas, but we have enough to buy a gift to go into the attic with everything else? No. 

He picked up the small toy train and held it to his heart. It was understandable why Cordelia had resorted back to buying gifts to go up in the attic; just the gesture of having a gift for him seemed to fill the hole in his heart with a bizarre sense of bittersweet love. 

_This is going to stop today. I'm going to give Luke this present because he deserves it. Then I will have no choice but to confront Cordelia about everything and demand that we start running this family as it ought to be._

Without another thought, Mr. Hemmings went to find his son with the toy hidden behind his back. After making sure that Mrs. Hemmings was busy in the kitchen, Mr. Hemmings sat next to his son, who was perched on the couch, staring longingly out the window.

"Yes, Daddy?" Luke asked.

Mr. Hemmings sat next to him and was silent for a very long moment.

"Am I in trouble?"

Mr. Hemmings smiled sadly at Luke. Is it possible that someday that won't be his immediate response when his mother or I talk to him? "No, Lukey, there's just something important I want to give you."

"Like a present?"

Mr. Hemmings stared into his son's intense sapphire eyes; the same eyes his mother possessed before she had given in to the hardships life offered. Now he only could only occasionally catch traces of the vibrancy Mrs. Hemmings' eyes had once shown. "Yes, a present. It is very important, but I guess you won't understand that until you are a little older." Mr. Hemmings pulled the the small toy train into view and set it down in his youngest son's lap. 

Luke gasped. He picked it up and studied it, running his hand over the wheels. "Little Kate and I will have so much fun with this!" Luke whispered. 

"How about you go on upstairs," he said. He was nervously wringing his hands, but Luke didn't notice. "I need to talk with your mother about something."

Luke obeyed and rushed to his room where Little Kate was waiting. Mr. Hemmings stood up and called his wife over to the living room.

"What is it?" she asked. "I'm sorta busy, if you haven't noticed before."

"Well, I was thinking—" fear overcame his words. There was no way he could demand her to understand why he gave away the gift she had put off for him. _Why did I even make that decision in the first place?_ Mr. Hemmings asked himself. All his original intentions were gone, and now he was racking his mind for an answer to give his wife. 

"Well, what is it? What were you thinking?"

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to make up a response. Luke came bounding down the steps, Little Kate in tow. Mr. Hemmings' eyes widened.

"What are you staring at?" Mrs. Hemmings turned and saw the toy train that Luke was clutching to his chest. She gasped. "W-what are you holding?"

"My new train—isn't it beautiful?"

"Lucas Robert Hemmings!" Mrs. Hemmings snatched the train from his grip along with 'Little Kate' and marched over to the fireplace. She held her empty fist over the flames knowing her son would believe his imaginary friend was about to be burned. "Not only are you too old to be having imaginary friends, but you are stupid enough to steal this train from my room. What, did you not think I would notice it missing?"

Silence.

Luke stared at his father, his wide eyes pleading with him to say something. He didn't. Luke deserved so much better than the coward of a father he was, but even with these thoughts, he couldn't bring himself to say a word. Mrs. Hemmings let out a scream and loosened her grip on Little Kate. As her fingers lost hold, Little Kate fell to her fiery death below, and Luke let out a scream. 

Mrs. Hemmings turned to face him. "I know you gave him the train," she cried. "So why?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just thought that it was time for you to stop blaming Luke for his death."

"Who's death?" Luke whispered, his voice unnoticed.

"If you wanted Luke to have this toy train, you should have came to me first! I don't care so much about the train—not nearly as much as I care about you not being honest and speaking up for your actions!"

"I was going to explain," he insisted.

"Maybe you were, but you didn't. You didn't until it was too late—until the damage had been done!"

"I'm not the one who threw Luke's beloved friend in the fire—you are."

"Well I'm not the one who has stopped caring. You used to be different, John. Before his death. You were different. You actually cared about what happened to this family! And now you don't act, you just sit back and accept things the way they are."

"I accept them the way they are because that's the only wise thing to do. Has taking your anger out on your son helped you grieve any? Can you honestly say that it's helped you move forward?" Mr. Hemmings asked. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings continued to yell back and forth at each other, and didn't even notice their youngest son slip up to his room.

****

Luke let out a shaky breath once he reached his attic bedroom. He closed the door and sat numbly on the edge of his bed. He could still hear his mother's screams from downstairs, but those didn't phase him anymore. Most twelve-year-olds would be in tears after being accused of murder and witnessing their only friend's fiery death, but Luke didn't let a single tear slip from his eyes. He was strong. One way or another it was going to get better if he just kept moving forward. And right now moving forward meant setting this wretched murder mystery aside and reading whatever encouraging words Benjamin offered in his latest letter. Those words, Luke hoped, could get him through until the moment that he and his friends could prove Mrs. Hemmings wrong: prove that he was not a murderer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, sorry if Benjamin seems a little girly because he was originally a girl, with that Annabel was originally a boy so the rolls might be a bit reversed. Sorry. Also with saying that sorry if the wrong pronouns are used. Also this chapter focuses on Benjamin but it's a very important chapter so you can't skip it. Sorry.

Benjamin smiled at the large group gathered that night around the campfire. "Well, I think I'm off to bed now. Merry Christmas!"

"No, wait!" Jennifer said. 

Benjamin turned and Jennifer instructed her to sit back down. "Here, we all have a gift for you. You have proved yourself a hard worker and a wonderful friend in the couple months we have known you, and we are so delighted that you plan on continuing your work with us here as we enter the next year. So we decided to buy you a little something." Jennifer handed Benjamin a little package.

"Thank you so much, Jennifer," Benjamin said. He opened the package and slid a bracelet from the packaging. He studied the bracelet in his hands. Tiny stones and gems were woven into the intricate braid of the bracelet, but somehow he knew it was the perfect piece of jewelry for him. "I've not seen a bracelet so beautiful in all my times in the market," Benjamin whispered as he slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.

"Yes, I was pleased myself when I found it. But don't forget that this is a present from all of us," she said.

Annabel laughed. "Really?"

"We've never even seen the bracelet," Samuel said, "how could the gift be from us?"

Robert laughed heartily. "It's from all of you because it's coming out of your pay checks," he teased.

"Too bad we've already received our pay."

"What makes you think I was talking about this month's pay?"

Benjamin smiled and said, "Thank you, all of you, even if you didn't help Jennifer pick the bracelet out. You have been my family for the past months, and will hopefully continue to be for many years to come. Good night and Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" the rest of the group chorused after him.

When Benjamin reached the small, canvas tent, he lifted the flap and stepped inside. He lit the small lantern that was resting on his trunk, opened his suitcase, took out his long-sleeved cotton pajamas Christmas Day had proved to be very busy in Brazil, and Benjamin had started the day off exhausted from long days and sleepless nights. Although he dreaded the thought of what was to come when sleep overtook him, his eyelids were heavy, so he let himself drift off to sleep. 

_He was ten again, standing on the riverbank, crying out in grief and screaming. When his parents found him, he tried to explain what had happened, but couldn't finish without going into hysterics again. He felt his father scoop him up in his arms and rush him to the carriage with Mrs. Hemmings hurrying behind with Luke, a look of shock across his face.  
By the time the carriage had reached its destination, Benjamin had stopped screaming and was now only sobbing. Mr. Hemmings jumped out of the carriage and ran into the small cottage they had stopped at. _

_"Benjamin! Get out!" Mrs. Hemmings screamed. Benjamin obeyed, dizzily following his mother into the house. An old, kind face appeared in front of Benjamin._

_"Come here, my child. Let Ms. Franny give you a hug. There, there. It's all right," the old woman soothed, stroking Benjamin's hair. Slowly, everything came back into focus and Benjamin realized he was in the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings burst into the room, and Mr. Hemmings slowly shook his head._

_"We are going to search the rest of the banks. Will you keep Lukey safe for us?"_

_Ms. Franny nodded solemnly and took Luke from Mr. Hemmings' arms._

_"Father. I want to come as well! I can help, I know I can. Please?" Benjamin shrieked. Mr. Hemmings looked at his wife questioningly, and Mrs. Hemmings studied her son. Benjamin knew what his mother was seeing wasn't very promising, for Benjamin was only a gangly boy of not even eleven years with messy hair, and a red, tear streaked face._

_Mrs. Hemmings sighed. "Yes. You are coming. But only because you caused this mess," she replied stonily, turning on her heel and exiting the house. Benjamin bit his lip and followed his parents out the door._

_"Here's a lantern and a jacket. It's mighty cold tonight. I'll be praying for good news," Ms. Franny said._

_The night seemed to drag on slowly, the darkness harsh and hungry. Benjamin remembered an old folk tale his mother used to tell him about a skeleton man who kidnapped children that weren't in bed when the sun went down. Walking along the river banks, he could almost hear the man's old bones clacking in the darkness. Exhaustion and cold had almost made the family give up when they found something. A tiny toddler bonnet floating atop the river, and a baby stocking washed up on shore. The Hemmings' ran knocking on the door of the people who owned the property, but they hadn't found him. Benjamin began crying hysterically again._

_Smack! A hand hit Benjamin hard across the cheek, and the world came abruptly back into focus._

_"Stop blubbering, Benjamin! This is all your fault! You are a pathetic excuse for a so , and because of you I will never again see his sparkling eyes, happy smile, or messy hair again!" With a film of tears in her eyes, Mrs. Hemmings whispered three last words that seemed to echo on throughout the night. "I hate you." Benjamin cried out as the words continued to ring in his ears, even after his parents had left. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate—"_

"Ahhh!" Benjamin opened his eyes and drew in a quick, surprised breath. Annabel was standing over him in the dark, an anxious look on her face. He impulsively drew the blankets up tighter around his body. "What are you doing in here?" He snapped, a guarded expression on his face. 

"Are you hurt?" Annabel asked him.

"No, now answer my question please." 

Annabel visibly cringed a little before answering honestly. "Well, I heard you screaming and crying, so I rushed in here to make sure you weren't hurt. Then I saw you rolling around in fright, so I woke you up. I didn't mean to scare you, honest. And I'm sorry for coming into your tent. I was just worried a snake had bitten you or something." 

Benjamin smiled a little bit. "It's quite alright, Annabel. I know you didn't mean any harm." He turned over on his cot in an obvious sign of dismissal, but Annabel stayed.

"If you don't mind me asking, what were you crying about?"

"I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it? Was a tiger trying to eat you? Because, you know, that's why people are guarding the camp, so you don't have to worry about that," she joked.

"No, a tiger wasn't trying to eat me." Benjamin bit his lip, wishing that Annabel would leave him be so he could face his past alone.

"What was your bad dream about, then?"

"Nothing. Just a big mistake I made a long time ago. It's not a big deal."

"Sounded like a 'big deal' to me. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"I wouldn't want to bother you." 

Annabel sighed and gently touched Benjamin's shoulder to make him face her.

"You're not going to bother me. I can help you get over whatever it is you are facing. I promise, no mistake you could've made will make me dislike you. Benjamin, I admire you and want to protect you, as well as be protected by you. And it sounds like this guilt is emotionally harming you. Please, tell me about it. I will listen." Then he took Benjamin's hands in hers and stared into his eyes.

Benjamin pulled his hands away and said, "Okay, I'll tell you about it. But, I'd rather talk outside." So, in his night clothes with his auburn hair all a mess, Benjamin stood up, walked outside with Annabel, and sat down in the grass by the fire. "I don't know how to even begin," he said, staring blankly into the flames. "I haven't told a soul any of this. After his death my mother wanted us to act as though nothing had happened."

Annabel looked to Benjamin and took his hands in hers again—this time Benjamin didn't pull away. "You can always start at the beginning. I have trouble sleeping, so I have all night.

Benjamin took a deep breath and said, "Alright, here I go. It all started on a cold April night..."


	10. Chapter 10

Ashton was surprised, and a little delighted, that Luke came up to him at recess the first day back from Christmas break. Luke had been so angry since the pageant that he had almost given up on trying to make him feel loved. It seemed like whenever he tried to do something nice for Luke, it backfired, so Ashton had decided that it was best for him to look out for him from afar. 

"Why are you here? Do you want to play with Sarah and I?" Ashton asked.

Luke shook his head no. His eyes were filled with a sadness Ashton didn't understand, and he said urgently, "We are having an emergency meeting over by the big pine trees, and Calum and I decided that we need your help."

"What's the meeting about? Can Sarah come?"

Luke was silent for a minute. "Well, I guess, if she's good at keeping secrets-this is important."

"She's real good at keeping secrets, but may I ask why we need to be so secretive about this?" Ashton had been taught since he was little not to keep secrets, but he wondered if this really counted if it would help him show Luke the love he needed. 

"Ashton, are you coming or not?"

He was silent for a few moments before he made his decision. "Of course I'll come!"

"Then we better hurry, we don't have long before Mr. VanHaram rings the school bell," Luke said. Ashton ran and fetched his sister, and soon the small group of Luke, Ashton, Sarah, Michael, and Calum were huddled beside the snow-covered pines.

"Why are they here?" Michael asked.

"Because we're going to need all the help we can get. We have a real live mystery to solve, and I need you all to promise to never tell a soul about any of this. Okay?" The group nodded hesitantly, and Luke said, "Alright, so on Christmas something big happened. I was just minding my own business playing with Little Kate, and my mother ripped her from my hands, took away my new train my father had given me, took Little Kate's favorite dress, and then threw her into our flaming fireplace!"

Ashton's cheeks turned pink-he was appalled that Luke would talk about something like his imaginary friend clothes!

Luke saw Ashton's face, and he said, "What's the matter, Ashton?"

"Well, you said, I mean-without any clothes?" he asked.

"Yes, Ashton, Little Kate was naked," Lukd said. "Weren't you listening?"

Sarah's cheeks turned pink, and she slid back uncomfortably. Michael and Calum started laughing at Sarah and Ashton to hide their own discomfort at Luke's choice of words.  
Luke stood up and placed his fists on his hips. "This is not a laughing matter-my best friend is dead, and I haven't even gotten to the rest of the story!"

"I thought I was your best friend!" Calum crossed his arms and glared up at his friend.

"Never mind that," Luke said, "so, as I was saying-Michael, stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry, it's not my fault, Calum started it, and-"

"My mother thinks I'm a murderer!" Luke shouted. That was enough to make everyone fall silent. They stared at Luke in horror. 

"Can I continue now?" They shook their heads yes, fascinated by whatever Luke could possibly be saying. "So, after she threw Little Kate in the fire, she started fighting with my father, and he told her that the reason he gave me the toy train was because he wanted my mother to stop blaming me for 'his death.' So what do you think?"

Ashton looked at Luke with wide eyes. His mother was wrong, he didn't just need to love Luke, he needed to protect him. He jumped to his feet and said, "You are not a murderer! Your mother is wrong. Nobody should be treated that cruelly!"

"Ashton, please stop, my mother isn't your problem. Your problem is helping me solve this murder mystery."

"Hey, Luke," Michael asked, "if we are going to be solving a mystery together, can we form a club?"

"A club? Why would we do that?" Calum asked. "I am thirteen and a club is something a first grader would take part in."

"Calum, you can never be too old for a club, and I think it's an excellent idea-if we are going to be actively involved in this mystery, we need to unite together no matter what we discover."

"You mean even if we find out that you are a murderer?" Michael asked. 

Ashton gasped as Michael's eyes widened at the thought of what they might find. "Michael! He is not a murderer, so we don't have to worry about that."

"I could be, Ashton, you never know."

Calum rolled his eyes. "I think you are just making this up for attention, but I guess we need to keep an open mind."

"So can we form a club? We could call it the Adventure Club!" Michael said.

"Yes," Ashton said. "But first we need to elect a club leader. Any suggestions."

"I say you, Ashton. It's the wisest because you, unlike Luke, aren't directly involved with the murder," Michael said.

"Is that everyone else's vote?" They nodded and Ashton said, "Great. Luke, you need to keep an ear open for any further information. Little Sarah, you can be a junior leader. Calum, you need to be Luke's assistant-make sure he's okay and protect him from Mrs. Hemmings. And Michael-"

"I can collect information for you, since I'm the only one of us who lives in town," Michael said.

"What kind of information can you get that we wouldn't be able to?" Calum asked.

"What about a list of people who've died recently? I could sneak out to the graveyard at night and write down all the recent names, couldn't I?"

Ashton shivered. All this talk about murder was a little unnerving. Should I really have dragged Sarah into this? he asked himself.

The bell rang and Luke stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. "Alright, we all know our jobs now, so I expect nobody to slack off. Michael, when can you get that list by?"

"Ummm, best if I get it by tomorrow so I don't forget."

"All right, the Adventure Club meets tomorrow after lunch, same place. Now do you all promise to never tell anybody about this?"

"I promise," they said in unison.

"Great, and good luck. I have a feeling we are going to need it." And before Luke could explain, he sprinted off towards the schoolhouse where Mr. VanHaram was waiting impatiently.

****

The next day the newly formed Adventure Club met near the pine tree after lunch. Luke was impatiently waiting for Michael to arrive, and he was curious as to what he had discovered at the graveyard the night before. 

When Michael finally trudged his way through the snow to where the club was waiting, he held out a piece of paper that was clutched in his mittened hands. "I got the list," he said. 

He fumbled to open the paper, his gloves hindering his ability to unfold it. Luke snatched the paper from his hands. "Here! Let me do that, Michael, " he said impatiently. 

"Don't you have gloves?" Ashton asked him.

"Does it look like I have mittens?" Luke asked. Ashton blushed with embarrassment, and Luke said, "This is a long list, Michael! How are we ever going to figure out who I killed when there's over a hundred names here?" 

Ashton's eyes lit up, and he said, "When I was in church a few weeks ago I overheard someone talking to my mother about an accident that happened in your family eight years ago, Luke! I bet the person your mother thinks you killed died in the accident they were talking about!" 

"Good thinking, Ashton," Luke said.

"That would've been nice to know last night before I spent an hour in the cold writing down every name and year in the graveyard," Michael grumbled.

"Oh, be quiet Michael! You didn't even get the last names," Luke snapped. 

"Hey! I had to brush the snow off the graves, so I only brushed off half of it," 

Luke opened his mouth to argue back with him, but Calum interrupted. "Can we just get on with this mystery? Look at the list already, I want to get back inside and eat." 

Sarah took the list from Luke's frozen hands and cleared her throat. "Okay, here are the people who died eight years ago, in eighteen seventy two: Elijah, Suzanna, Pollyanna, Meghan, Christopher, Milly, Jack-that's a cool name-Annabeth, Betsy, and Samuel. Any sound familiar to you Luke?"

"No, but I will think about it some more. To think I've got to have accidentally killed one of those poor souls!"

Calum rolled his eyes at Luke's dramatics, and Ashton dismissed the Adventure Club for lunch. "And remember," he said, "keep your eyes and ears open for more information and clues. The answer lies within the past of this small town, and if the adults living here won't tell us anything, we will just have to work that much harder."


	11. Chapter 11

Luke stared longingly at the snow-covered ground stretching all the way to the fields to his left. He sighed and watched in wonder as his breath formed little puffs of precipitation in the early February air. He knew that he was testing his mother's patience, taking longer than he should have to dump the dirty dish-water, but Luke needed a moment to clear his mind. He hadn't had a moment to himself with all the chores he had been doing, and the week before that he was so preoccupied with schoolwork, and the mystery, that he had simply forgotten to breathe. 

"Lucas! What's taking you so long?" Mrs. Hemmings called from the kitchen window.

Luke finished dumping the water and hurried back inside. "I'm sorry, I guess I was just-uh-thinking?"

"Yeah right, you weren't thinking; you were daydreaming. Now get back in here and fold the laundry."

"When I finish folding the laundry, may I go play with all my friends?"

"Yeah, sure, why not," Mrs. Hemmings said.

Luke beamed and said, "Well, guess what? I already folded the laundry while you were making breakfast this morning! So now I think I will go fetch the Adventure Club and—"

"I'm sorry, Luke, but I was mistaken. You aren't going anywhere."

"But Mother," Luke whined, "you said yourself that I could have the Adventure Club over! What are you teaching me—that lying is allowed now?"

Mrs. Hemmings glared at her son. "I am your mother, and you will respect me when I tell you something. You are almost thirteen years old and should be learning how to take care of your own home and preparing for when you are to be married."

"I know, but—"

"Lucas, if you'd stop interrupting me I would like to propose a compromise. You may have Calum over if you promise to behave and act like proper gentlemen. Understood?"

"But I need more people than Cal if we are to have any adventure at all!" Luke's eyes narrowed; this was not an even compromise, especially when his mother had already promised he could play with the entire Adventure Club.

"We've been over this. You need to stop having adventures and playing with imaginary friends. You need to grow up and face the real world because you are too old for pretend."

"How can someone be too old to pretend? Have you ever considered that this is the only way I have to cope with this terrible, bitter, real world you are always talking about? And I don't play with imaginary friends anymore, you killed Little Kate!" 

"Lucas, hush!"

"No. I won't be quiet. You wonder why I don't act my own age—maybe it's because you don't treat me my age," Luke said. He let the statement sink in fully before continuing in a whisper, "Why can't you just tell me what's going on? I'm old enough to understand, I promise."

"There is nothing going on. Don't accuse me of lying again. Now, do you want Calum to come over or not?"

Luke masked the annoyance in his voice and said in a monotone, "Thank you for giving me this opportunity to have Calum over. We will behave and act as gentlemen and will not do anything foolish like having adventures with our wretched imaginations. We will have a luncheon that might even teach us the importance of manners, etiquette, and the much needed skills of entertaining house guests. Now if you excuse me, I will head out now and drop off a formal invitation to Calum Hood's house."

His mother frowned her disproval but didn't say anything. Instead she let Luke leave the house without another word. 

The two boys came back around lunchtime and hesitantly helped Mrs. Hemmings finish lunch. As the potato stew was being finished, Mrs. Hemmings sent the two boys to drag the table to the entry room which was used as a "dining room" when company was over. 

The boys set the table and Mrs. Hemmings came out to talk to them about how this meta party would work. ".... And since you two need to learn these important life skills, I want you to pretend as if Lucas is the host and Calum is the guest. I will be serving you and waiting on your needs, but remember, Lucas is still in charge."

"Really?" Luke asked. The idea of Mrs. Hemmings waiting on their every need seemed pleasing for a moment—then he remembered that in doing so, she would be listening in on all their conversations, expecting them to use their manners and etiquette. "All right, where do I start?"

"You need to lead your guest to his seat," Mrs. Hemmings whispered.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that."

Mrs. Hemmings watched with a critical eye as Luke led his friend to his seat and asked politely for the food to be brought in. Mrs. Hemmings smiled and left the room, encouraging Luke to keep up the good behavior. 

They sat eating and carrying on meaningless conversations about the dreadful weather and other senseless things for a good fifteen minutes before Luke was sick of such nonsense. He looked at Calum, who was still talking about some shirt he had seen when he had visited the North Riverside's general store, and was filled with a sudden feeling of dread. "I'm sick of growing up!" Luke declared.

Calum looked up at Luke in slight surprise at the interruption, but he motioned for his friend to continue, for even Calum had grown weary of their dull conversation. 

"How come grown ups think it's so necessary when it's really quite boring?"

"Luke, our parents know what they are doing, and if we don't grow up now, how can we be married in a couple years?"

"I'm not getting married in a couple years—I'm still only twelve!"

"Luke, you are almost thirteen, and in a couple years you will be fifteen."

"So, my parents aren't terrible like yours. I get to choose whomever I want, if I even choose to get married."

"Don't you dare go criticizing my parents!" Calum lowered his voice and whispered, "Or have you forgotten the reason of our mission in the first place?"

"Well at least my parents have only messed up my past—yours have messed up your future!"

Calum pushed his bowl away and got up to leave. 

"No, wait, Calum, I'm sorry. You're right, I'm a terrible friend," Luke begged. He didn't believe this one bit, but he needed Calum for the mystery, and he knew how to make him stay. "Please don't leave, you're the only friend I have!"

Calum stopped but didn't face his friend. He bit his lip, thought for a second, began to say something, but stopped. "Luke, what's that?"

"Are you staying?"

"Sure, now answer me, what's that?"

"A pile of letters, a lace doll thing Ms. Franny gave to us, a—"

"No, the picture!" Calum went to retrieve the picture from it's spot behind the stack of letters, but his fingers slipped and he pushed it between the bookshelf and the wall. "I'm so sorry, now I've lost your picture!"

"I'm sure it's not that important, and it couldn't have been of me—I've never had my picture taken before."

"The little boy in the picture was definitely you," Calum said, "because he was standing next to Benjamin and your parents."

"Really, what else was in the picture?"

"Well, there was your house in the background, and, listen to this, you were standing next to another boy. I assume he was around your age, but I didn't get enough time to look closely before it fell. Do you think it could be the boy your mother thought you killed?"

"If Ashton says the accident happened eight years ago, it would make sense that I was so little in the picture. Maybe—" 

He stopped talking as a vivid memory came to him, putting him in a momentary trance as he grasped for the memory. He stood motionless in the middle of the room and held his breath in wonder as something happened—he remembered. _He was standing next to the flower beds with the rest of his family, shaking with fear. Benjamin reached down and gave his little hand a reassuring squeeze as a man with a black box, resting carefully on a tripod, stood and instructed them to remain still._ There was something else significant about this memory, something special about the boy who must have been standing on Luke's left, but no matter how hard Luke fought to remember, he couldn't. Finally, Luke gave up and brought his fist down hard on the bookshelf. 

Calum jumped. "Whatever is the matter with you!"

"I started to remember, but it's like every memory I should have of whoever died has been blocked." Luke, his face red with anxiety, crossed his arms and sat desolately across the table from his friend. 

"Well that's not a good enough reason to go about punching furniture! You are so mannerless, Lucas Hemmings, it's a good thing you don't want to be married. I know I'm sounding like Sophia, but sometimes I wonder if she is right. Why, if you want that picture so badly, just move the bookshelf and retrieve it yourself!"

Luke was mad at Calum for agreeing with Sophia, but his excitement over Calum's last comment overrode his instinct to provoke an argument. "Thank you, Calum, you are a genius!"

"I am? I don't think you are understanding what I really meant by that."

"Calum," Luke instructed, rushing over to the bookshelf, "you get that corner and I'll get this one."

Calum didn't move.

"Come on, quickly, before Mother gets back," Luke whispered urgently.

Calum scanned the room and then reluctantly agreed. Together both boys managed to pull the bookshelf back, making a horrendous screeching sound in the process, but creating about a foot of space behind the shelf. 

Luke hurried around back and reached his arm towards the picture, currently sitting in a heap of dirt and dust. He stretched his fingers out to grab it, but before he could get to it, he was harshly yanked back. "What?—" Luke stopped as he spun around and found himself staring face to face with Mrs. Hemmings. 

"I can explain," Luke blurted out. "Calum knocked a picture behind the bookshelf and I wanted to get to it so he wouldn't get in trouble."

"Calum, is this true?"

Calum burst into tears and grabbed his jacket, fleeing the room so he wouldn't have to face Mrs. Hemmings, the most feared woman in town. 

Mrs. Hemmings followed Calum into the kitchen, yelling at him for "meddling in other people's businesses" and saying that if he "made one more ounce of mischief for their family," she would personally see to it that Luke would have nothing to do with him.

Luke listened but stayed exactly where he was, head bowed in shame, knowing that he shouldn't have put all the blame on Calum, but at the same time knowing that by doing so he had helped himself out immensely. Mrs. Hemmings stormed back into the room and grabbed the picture from behind the shelf. Luke watched his mother's demeanor change as she studied the picture. Her mother's rage turned bitter, and she shoved the picture deep into her skirt pocket before rushing out of the room, not even bothering to move the shelf back against the wall. 

Luke stared at the bookshelf for a minute before hurrying up to his room. He had just seated himself on his bed when he heard a rustling noise in the attic room across from his own. He froze as he heard another sound, this time it was a creak, as if someone was opening one of the trunks on the other side of the wall. Luke put his ear against the wall and listened hard. It was silent for a fleeting g moment before the sound of sobs broke the silence. 

A guilty feeling crossed over Luke for eavesdropping, and he backed away slowly. His legs bumped against the edge of his bed and he flopped down, gazed up at the low ceiling, and decided two things. One, they needed another Adventure Club meeting, and two, they needed to search the attic as soon as possible to discover what secret the trunks held, a secret powerful enough to cause Mrs. Hemmings to break down like Luke had never known before.


	12. Chapter 12

Luke was hunched over his homework, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. Today was the day the Adventure Club had chosen to finish off the mystery, and for a twelve-and-a-half-year-old, homework was impossible when in the midst of solving a murder mystery. They had chosen today because tonight all the parents would be in town for a meeting until late, so they had ample time to solve the elements of this grave matter. Luke hadn't found anything more of importance, and they still needed to find out what the accident was and who exactly the boy was. 

"Lucas," a voice shouted up the stairs, "there's a letter from your brother down here on the table!"

"Coming, Mother!" Luke, his hair still unbrushed and unkept from a rushed morning of restless thoughts, sprinted down to the kitchen where he received the letter with great excitement. He smiled, thinking that after he solved the mystery he could sit down and peacefully read his brother's letter.

"Lucas, have you finished your homework?" His mother asked.

Luke mustered an innocent look and told his mother that he had. 

Mrs. Hemmings must have believed him, as she said, "Luke, your father and I are going out. We expect—"

"How long will you be gone?"

"Do not interrupt me when I speak! We are going out to a parent's association meeting in town and should be back by nine o’ clock sharp. Your dinner is waiting for you on the table, and I expect you to behave yourself; don't go near the river. Do you hear me?" 

"Why shouldn't I go near the river?"

"Because—" Mrs. Hemmings shivered before saying, "Because I told you to."

He studied his mother's expression and knew there was something she was keeping from him. His mother's usual stern expression and ram rod posture had been replaced by a haunted expression and defeated shoulders. 

Luke restlessly watched his parents leave, an interesting thought striking him—Benjamin always had nightmares, and on multiple occasions, Luke had heard him screaming something about the river. _Maybe_ , Luke thought, _the fears Mother and Benjamin have about the river is connected to our mystery. Maybe—_

Luke's thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of knocks at the kitchen door. He ran to the door and welcomed the Adventure Club inside. Grabbing a few sheets of paper and pencils, he ordered all four club members to sit down at the kitchen table for a quick meeting. "Okay, we need a new plan. My original plan has been disrupted because of some new information I just acquired, but let's begin by writing down all we know so far."

Michael and Ashton leaned closer and whispered excitedly. "What's the new information?"

Luke lowered his voice and said, "The river."

Sarah crinkled her nose in confusion and asked, "What does the river have to do with it?"

"Hush, Sarah, let Luke speak," Ashton scolded. Sarah's cheeks grew red in embarrassment from being singled out, and she fell silent, picking up a pencil as Luke continued. 

"My mother hesitated briefly as she was telling me to stay away from the river, as if she was keeping something from me, and then I remembered something—Benjamin always has these nightmares, and a few of the times before I woke him I heard him scream something about the river."

"So what does this mean?" Calum asked.

"It means that the accident has to do with the river," Ashton said. "Did your mother say anything specific about what she was worried about happening?"

Luke's eyes lit up in excitement. "No, but she probably just didn't want me to fall in and drown. Wait! Do you think the boy's death was caused by a river accident?"

"It makes sense," Calum said, "but why would it be your fault?"

"Maybe it wasn't," Sarah said, looking up from the picture she was doodling in front of her.

"You are brilliant, Sarah!"

"I am?" 

"Yes, it makes so much sense now! Up until now I've been wondering why I don't remember causing the boy's death, but that's the thing—I didn't cause it. My mother blames me for all sort of things I don't do, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for her to blame me for this. I didn't murder this boy, he must have fallen in the river and my mother, being the person she is, blamed it on me anyways. Ashton, what do you think?"

Ashton bit his lip, like he was contemplating what he was about to say. "Hey, Luke?"

"Huh?"

"I've been wondering this for a while—why would your mother have a family photo taken with a random boy?"

"Are you saying—?" Luke stared at Ashton in shock. Could he possibly be saying that the mystery boy was his brother?

"Listen, Luke, it would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"Can someone please explain to me what you two just figured out," Calum said.

"Ashton thinks that the boy was related to me," Luke said. "It's a possibility, although who knows, he could have just been a distant relative."

"How will we figure it out, then?"

"We should reenact the accident!" Michael said. "We could follow the river downstream in search of clues, and then—"

"That's a terrible idea, Michael," Calum said. "What's your plan, Luke?"

"I'm going to search through the attic and find clues there." Before Luke could explain about how he had heard his mother rummaging through the attic, Calum declined his offer. 

"No way I'm spending my night without parents going through your attic—I'm searching with Ashton and Michael."

"Who said I was going with Michael?" Ashton asked.

Luke glared and said, "I did. But I need Michael to help keep guard for me."

"Luke, I can't search the riverbanks because I need to keep Sarah safe," Ashton said.

"I can watch her, Ashton, you need to accompany Calum and keep him out of danger."

"So where am I guarding?" Michael asked.

"The front porch, Sarah's coming with me, and Ashton and Calum are searching downstream as far as you get before sundown. Sound good? We have a little over three hours, but we still need to move fast!" 

Luke watched the three boys leave to their places before he directed Sarah to the attic. "Come with me," he said. 

They crossed the house and headed up the stairs to the attic. Instead of going straight into his bedroom like usual, Luke turned to face the locked door to his right. He pulled out the long brass key he had taken from her mother's bedroom and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. 

Luke gasped as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. This was far from any attic he had seen before in her life; it looked more like a nursery. Peeling blue wallpaper lined all four walls, and a dusty blue rug lay across the wooden floor. Littered across the rug were toys and picture books that seemed to have never been put away, and aside from many trunks, the room also contained dusty rocking chairs, a rocking horse, cracked mirrors, a changing table, high chairs, and two cribs. 

"Look, Sarah! Our old cribs! One of them is probably mine and the other Benjamin's," Luke mused. "Unless one of them was _my unknown brother's_ ," Luke whispered.

"Hey! Luke! Look what I found!"

"What?"

"Look at this cool hat!" Sarah exclaimed, putting on a big, flamboyant hat with peacock feathers. 

The children both laughed at how ridiculous Sarah looked and continued to open up the dozens of chests that littered the attic floor. One chest was full of hats, another baby toys, and yet another was filled with old dishes. Sarah opened one of the smaller chests and found a silk dress with little pearls embroidered all over it. 

"Whose dress was this?" Sarah asked.

"I guess it must have been my mother's wedding dress," Luke replied, marveling at how beautiful it was. "How in the world did they get the money to afford something like this?" He wondered aloud. 

Sarah shrugged and Luke picked up a black and white picture of his parents on their wedding day. The picture portrayed a tall man and a slender bride, whose smiling eyes were vibrant and sparkling. Luke looked at the picture and was deeply surprised; I didn't think Mother had ever smiled like that. Maybe she used to be different. But, what could have made her change?

****

Ashton trudged through yet another snow drift along the riverbed, and then he waited impatiently for Calum to catch up.

"Ashton, we've been walking for a while now, why can't we cross the river and see what's on the other side?"

"Calum, what if the river's not all the way frozen?" 

"Then we fall through," Calum laughed. 

Ashton watched his breath form little clouds in the chilly air, and he said, "Must I remind you why we are searching this riverbank in the first place? I don't want to have more than one river drowning to think about." 

"Come on, Ashton, please, we've never crossed the river before," Calum pleaded.

"Alright, but I go first to make sure it's safe." Ashton put one foot hesitantly on the sheet of ice stretching across the river and tested it. It withstood his weight, so Ashton cautiously proceeded to cross. When he climbed to the snowy bank on the other side, he motioned for Calum to follow. 

He copied Ashton's caution, but was stopped by a loud crack. Calum's eyes widened and he tried to race to the other side. He would have made it if he hadn't slipped with almost eight feet to go. Ashton watched him fall down on the ice, and then the ground gave way, Calum plummeting into the icy water. He screamed and Ashton jumped forward onto the remaining ice, grabbing his outstretched arm to keep him from going under. He pulled with all his might and eventually pulled him to the snowy shore. "Wow are you heavy," he grumbled.

"That's all you have to say?" Calum's eyes flashed and he hugged his knees, shivering and glaring in contempt. "I almost _drown_ and you don't ask me how I am, but instead tell me I'm heavy!"

"I'm sorry, but you wanted to cross in the first place," he said. "But how are you?"

"I need to go home now—I'm cold, wet, my clothes are going to freeze, and I don't even care about this stupid mystery anymore."

Calum, you know we're gonna have to walk all the way to the bridge in order to get home—unless you want to try crossing the ice again," he said, a teasing smile across his face.

"Walk to the bridge? That will take forever, and then we have to walk all the way home from there!"

"Not my fault," Ashton said. "If we go straight ahead of here we will probably reach North Riverside, and then we can walk on the roads until we reach home, instead of tramping through the snow banks."

Calum didn't respond, but Ashton made up his mind and started walking. He tried to ignore Calum's complaints, but soon they turned into whimpers and the sounds of sobs. "C'mon, Calum, please don't cry, we're probably almost somewhere."

His cries and whines gained volume until they were of so loud that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching. Ashton continued to walk, and kept doing so until he was face to face with a complete stranger.

Ashton looked up and skidded to a halt. "Sir!" he said, "Please help us, Calum here has fallen into the river and we need to get him home so he doesn't die from cold."

The man laughed. "I'm Daren, and you can come with me, I'm sure the Owen's wouldn't mind me rescuing a few guests. Come up front and we can ring for Angie." A look of relief filled Calum's face, and he hurried quickly after Daren, at least as quickly as his stiff legs and frozen pants allowed. Daren led the children up to the biggest house either of them had ever seen, and Calum whispered, "They must have a huge fortune to afford a house that size."

"That's no house, Calum, that's a mansion," he breathed in return. They followed Daren up the path to the front door, and Ashton took in the picturesque estate. Lines of trees stood like an army leading up to the front steps, a brass knocker protruded from the door, as if it was daring whomever came to be courageous enough to knock, and the brick building itself reached high up, locking the sky in a stony embrace. 

"Whoa." Calum stopped walking, but Ashton pulled him onward. They reached the front door and Daren knocked. A maid dressed in black with a starched white apron answered, and Daren explained their predicament to her.

****

"Well, Sarah, this is the last chest. If it doesn't have anything interesting in it, I guess we will have to tell the others we didn't find anything," Luke said. Although he appeared nonchalant, inside he was charged with energy. He had a feeling that whatever was in this box was going to be important. He wiped the dust off the top and pulled with all his might until the heavy lid opened. When he caught sight of what was inside, he gasped.

"What is it?" Sarah asked. She walked over, the feathery hat still atop her head.

"It-it's-I have a—"

"A what?" Sarah asked.

Luke didn't answer. He was totally absorbed with what was in the chest. Inside this large chest was baby clothes, toddler clothes, and four year old little boy clothing. But that was not all. There were also toys: a fancy train, a well loved teddy bear, baby blocks, and much more. In fact, there was the toy train mother had taken from Luke and Little Kate on Christmas! But, these things were not what Luke was speechless about. 

Inside the lid of the chest was a black and white picture of Luke, his parents, Benjamin, and another brother he couldn't remember. Luke had readied himself for the revelation of a brother, but he hadn't readied himself for what he had just seen. In the picture there were two smiling little boys: 

_Twins._

Luke saw his mother, his father, Benjamin, and two copies of his younger self smiling into the camera. They were all utterly happy. Luke gingerly pulled one of the baby outfits out of the chest. On the hem a name was embroidered in light blue thread. Jack. This was one of the names from Michael's list, but it brought a new meaning to him now. Jack. Now that he thought about it, the name sounded slightly familiar to Luke.

****

Ashton's gaze wandered from the maid and he looked over as he saw a boy about his age walk towards the door. They locked eyes and a chill ran down Ashton's spine. His knees went weak, and he stood staring at the boy before him. He was wearing a grey slacks that reached almost to his shiny black shoes, his hair was styled in a way that was messy but still elegant and out of his face so that his vibrant eyes were still exposed. He was beautiful, no doubt about it, but that was not the reason Ashton was standing speechless. He was shocked at what lay behind his warm smile and fancy clothes.

He was shocked because this was Luke. 

"Wha-who-how?" Calum and Ashton both stuttered.

"Jack, you should be getting ready for your lessons with Madame Moreau," the maid scolded, "but while you are here, you might as well introduce yourself."

The boy smiled and bowed slightly. The smile reached naturally to his sapphire eyes, and Ashton continued to stare—could Luke ever get to a point where smiles like that would light up his face?

"My name is Jack, and you two are—?"

Calum didn't say anything, just stood there shivering under his wet clothes. Ashton figured he should say something in return, so he forced out his name, "A-Ashton," and then again, "this is C-Calum." As he studied this boy standing before him, clarity dawned on him. He was definitely a twin to Luke, no doubt about it, so that meant that he was the boy who drowned in the river accident almost nine years ago.

"Angie," Luke said, "they look freezing cold, how about you lead them inside and get them something warm to drink."

"Um, Jack," Ashton said, "I'm fine, but you probably should bring Calum inside so he doesn't get hypothermia."

Angie, the maid, led Calum inside, and Daren headed to to the stables to get the carriage ready to deliver Calum back home once he had warmed up a little. 

Jack turned to leave as well, and Ashton grabbed his arm in desperation. Jack let out a quick cry of alarm and shook off his grip. He backed into the doorway, fright written across his face. 

"I know your family," he said suddenly, apology in his eyes. "I'm really sorry, but you need to listen to me. I know your birth family." He cringed, hoping Jack wouldn't slam the door in his face. If he did, Ashton wouldn't blame him; after all, he hadn't broken the news to him the way it should have been, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Ashton couldn't waste any precious time.

"M-my-my birth family?" His eyes softened. "But my parents couldn't find my birth family after I was rescued," he said. Fear appeared across his face and he said, "Please don't let them take me away from my family!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ashton promised, "but you do need to meet somebody."

"My parents?" He squeaked.

"No, no, I would never let that happen. I need you to meet—" he hesitated and then said, "your brother."

Tears filled Jack's eyes, another ache to Ashton's heart—in all the months he had known him, Ashton had never seen Luke cry. Even in the darkest of times, he kept his emotions hidden. "I'll run home and be right back with him, alright?" Jack agreed and Ashton said, "Another thing, if you don't want your parents to know, you might want to meet me somewhere your parents can't see us."

Jack bit his lip and said hesitantly, "I'll meet you out back in an hour after my lessons, okay? It will be hard getting away without anyone seeing, but I guess I can always tell them I need to take a walk by myself to think things over."

"What kind of things?" Ashton asked.

Jack laughed before explaining, his laugh another realization to Ashton just how different Luke was from his twin.

"...So please hurry back!" Jack said. "I need to go now, I'm already late."

As Ashton sprinted back, he tried to think through how he would explain this discovery to Luke. When he reached him, though, the look on her face told him that he already knew he had a twin.

"Luke," he said, "we met this boy who looks just like you."

"Jack," Luke whispered.

"Yes," Ashton said, "It was Jack."

"How did you know the name of the boy Ashton met?" Michael asked. 

"Michael, When Sarah and I were in the attic, we found out something big. I assume Ashton and Calum have already figured this out, but, I-I'm a twin!"


	13. Chapter 13

_Benjamin laughed happily as he watched Luke and Jack play with the paper trains he had cut out for them that morning._

_"Benjamin, could you please come here a minute?"_

_He stood obediently and walked to the kitchen where his mother was waiting impatiently. "We have a parent meeting tonight, remember?"_

_"Yes, Mother, you have a meeting, and I will be in charge of watching the twins while you're gone. I will warm up the dinner at five-thirty, and we will eat at six."_

_Mrs. Hemmings sighed. "I know you've watched them both before, but you know how I worry so."_

_"I'll be fine, Mother, what could go wrong?"_

_"I know, John is right when he says that they will be fine, but please promise me that you'll keep a good eye out for them, okay? Jack is still a tad weak from his sickness, but Luke is high spirited, and if you don't keep an eye on him he could wander off."_

_"Mother, I'll be fine, I promise!"_

_"I know, boys come give your mother a hug!"_

_Luke and Jack came running into the kitchen, pushing each other playfully, trying to be the first to reach Mrs. Hemmings. She swooped both boys into a long hug and then proceeded to give them each a kiss on their heads._

_"Mama, wanna play trains with us?" Jack asked._

_"No, I wanna play house," Luke whined._

_"I can't do either, I have a meeting to go to." They started to pout, but Mrs. Hemmings said sternly, "Benjamin will take good care of you, okay?"_

_The twins sighed, but obeyed and went back to their game of trains._

_Mr. Hemmings entered the room. "Cordelia, we are leaving now."_

_"Benjamin, please keep a good eye on them."_

_"Hon, they'll be fine, let's get going."_

_Benjamin watched his parents leave before he turned to his brothers. "Who's ready for a round of hide and seek?"_

_"Hide en seek, hide en seek!" Benjamin entertained them with several rounds of hide and seek, marveling at how much joy they found in a simple game like this. He looked to the clock and saw that it was five-thirty, so he broke the news that he needed to start dinner. The twins hung their heads in disappointment, but Benjamin shooed them off to the living room. "Go play," he said._

_"Hide en seek?" Jack asked._

_"Sure, whatever you want, just be good. I need to go make dinner." Benjamin walked into the kitchen and busied himself with the chicken casserole his mother had already prepared earlier that day. Sun was shining through the clouds for the first time in a week, so Benjamin opened the window and breathed in the crisp, cool air. He could smell a trace of summer, and he smiled at the thought of the warm days to come. Benjamin realized he hadn't heard a noise from the living room in a while, so he walked back to check on the twins._

_When he got to the living room, he found it empty. "Luke? Jack?" He called out. "Boys, if you are playing hide and seek, please come out wherever you are." He received no reply, so he climbed the steps leading to the attic. He spent a couple minutes searching the twin's nursery before he moved onto his own room. No signs of the twins anywhere._

_He made his way back downstairs and briefly glanced back into the kitchen. What he saw made his heart stop. The door was swinging in the cool April breeze, and two little sets of footprints were left on the muddy trail leading to the river. Benjamin gasped in shock before racing over to the river._

_"No hiding in the water, Jacky!" Luke called out. "But I'll save you!"_

_Before Benjamin could stop his little brother, he leapt into the ice cold water. Benjamin sprinted across the river bed. When he was close enough to Luke, he jumped in. Benjamin screamed as a wave sucked him under. He tried to swim to the surface, but the river water swirling around his body held him down. As he thrashed about, he felt a pudgy hand grasp his arm in desperation. He tried harder to get to the surface, and his head eventually broke through. As he gasped for air, he tried to pull the little boy out of the river's violent current. Just when she had the little boy safe in his arms, a sudden torrent of water came roaring down the river swept him away._

_Benjamin screamed again, tears rolling down his face as he splashed down the river after the boy, but he had disappeared. Frustrated, and on the verge of hysterics, Benjamin let out a desperate moan, and a fresh torrent of tears came pouring out of his eyes. No, no! This can't be happening. No! Benjamin screamed._

_He thrashed around until he felt something. He grasped for it and this time maintained his grip. He grabbed a branch sticking out from the side of the riverbank and pushed his little brother up on the shore where he laid unmoving. Benjamin pulled himself up next to Luke and started shaking him to and fro, praying for God to send a miracle to save his brothers. Benjamin's heart leapt when he heard the pained coughs coming from his little brother as he spit up mouthfuls of water—Luke was okay!_

_Benjamin turned his attention off of Luke and leapt back into the waters, frantically searching for Jack and screaming for help. It was getting so dark that he couldn't see a thing in the dark, murky waters. After a few minutes of no luck, he gave up and pulled himself back to shore, still calling for help. He ran to Luke, who was shivering fervently and whispering something. Benjamin wrapped his wet arms around Luke's tiny body, hoping to keep him warm until help arrived._

_"Hide en seek," Luke whispered. "Did you find Jacky? Hide en seek. Jacky?"_

_Benjamin couldn't break the news to Luke, so he instead said, "We've not found him yet, but we will." With everything in his heart, Benjamin wished that would be true, but something told him that it couldn't be._

_"Benjamin!" a frantic voice called out. "What happened? Are they okay?" His mother screamed, running towards her oldest son._

_"Oh, Mother! Jack. They fell in. I tried to save them. I could only find Luke," Benjamin choked out, sobbing._

_"Jack? Jack! JACK!" their mother screamed, running up and down the river bank, searching for her precious son._

_"Help me, John!" she screamed towards her husband._

_Mr. Hemmings took Luke from Benjamin and clutched his son, who was still shivering through his wet clothes and whispering his twin's name. "Oh Lukey-Pookie, Oh Lukey-Pookie," Mr. Hemmings whispered, tears streaming down his face._

_Benjamin looked up and abruptly stopped crying. Everything was getting too real. There was no way Jack could be dead. Accidents happened on the river all the time. But not to his brother. He was twelve years old, but he did something more childish than he had ever remembered doing. He stood up and started to scream. He screamed his brother's name, screamed at the treacherous river, and screamed for the tragic fate that he somehow already knew. "No! Oh Jack! No! He can't be dead! Oh Jack! No—"_

Benjamin woke up with a start. He gulped in a deep breath and told himself it was just another nightmare. Unfortunately, Benjamin knew it was something worse than a nightmare—it was a memory. He stared at the grassy ceiling of his little hut and slowed his breathing. He had no hope of falling back to sleep, so he sat up and wrapped his arms around himself. It wasn't cold, but he was shaking so hard from the memory. He half hoped Annabel had heard his screams again and would come to comfort him, but he knew that was unreasonable. He could always wake up James, but he didn't want to cause any trouble.

_Why can't I stop having nightmares about Jack?_ He asked himself. _It's been almost nine years, and it's hard enough getting over his death without being reminded of it every other night._ Benjamin looked around his hut, deep in thought _. I really do wish my parents would tell Luke about Jack. He has every right to know._

___________________________________Wait a minute?___________________________________ Benjamin thought. _If they won't tell him, who's stopping me?_ Benjamin got out of bed and rummaged through his belongings until he found a pen and some paper. He quietly walked towards the door and headed into the hot, sticky, Brazilian night to compose an important letter to his brother.


	14. Chapter 14

Later that night, Luke and Ashton finally arrived on foot to Jack's mansion. Neither had anticipated the time the journey would take, and Ashton warned Luke that they would only have a few minutes once they arrived to speak with Jack. The mansion was hidden mostly by trees and dark shadows, but from what Luke could see, it was massive.

"Jack?" Ashton called out quietly.

"I'm over here," a voice called out from the shadows.

Luke shivered—the voice sounded just like his own. Ashton waved the lantern around the dark yard, and when Luke and Jack were close enough to see one another, they gasped. 

Jack hesitantly gasped out, "Lukey?"

Luke nodded and watched as Jack took a step closer. "Jay?" Luke asked. 

Jack nodded. They locked eyes for a few prolonged seconds before running to envelop each other in a hug. Jack was laughing and crying, and a long moment passed before they finally stepped away from each other.

As they separated, both boys simultaneously collapsed to the ground, heads spinning, hearts pounding. Vivid memories of games of pretend, playing trains, and Benjamin's stories flashed through their minds.

"Luke! Jack! Are you okay?" Ashton shouted. 

"I'm fine," they said in unison. They turned to each other, and Jack started laughing. 

"Whoa, you two are spooky! I always heard that twins shared one mind, but I never believed it before I saw you two!"

The boys ignored him and turned to each other. 

"What happened?" Jack asked. "Why are we apart?"

"It all started with an accident when we were four," Luke said. "I don't know all the details, but one April night you fell in the river and my mother has blamed me for your death ever since."

"What?" 

Luke could see fear in his wide, sapphire eyes, so he offered an explanation. "She had to blame someone, so I guess I was the easiest target. The real question is why we don't remember each other."

"After my parents found and adopted me, I was so ill from hypothermia that by the time I recovered, I didn't remember anything from my past," Jack said.

"But what about me? I should remember my own twin!"

"I hate to interrupt, Luke, but maybe you blocked out his memory because it was too painful for your four-year-old mind to take in. Especially after your mother asked the whole town to forget about Jack for your sake."

"What?" Jack asked. "She asked them to forget about me? Why?"

Luke shrugged. "We're not sure, but what we do know is pointing towards her keeping you a secret so I didn't have to know about my dead twin. That's not the easiest news to break to a four year old. So how did your parents find you? And what happened after they did?"

"Luke, I know you'd love to stay and talk, but we really need to get home before your mother. Besides, it's dark and I'm not sure how fast we can walk home by lantern." 

"I need to go inside, too, I'm sorry," Jack said. "I wish I could stay longer, but we need to go." He wrapped his arms around Luke and said, "I love you, and I'll be praying for you until we see each other again. I'd write, but I'm afraid your mother would find the letter, and—" he shivered, and Luke finished, "We don't want that to happen." 

Luke looked deep into his twin's eyes and whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I'm happier than I've been in years, of course everything is okay!" 

"Goodbye then, we really have to talk again sometime—when it's not late at night," Jack laughed.

Luke gave his twin another hug, said goodnight and I love you, and then pulled himself away from his twin's embrace. 

As he walked away, a blanket of grief fell over him. Yes, Jack was alive, but they were separated, and would continue to be forever. His twin couldn't offer him the friendship and love that he needed because of a river and a world of difference that boundary made. 

Ashton tried to comfort Luke by putting his arm around his shoulders and telling him that he would see his twin soon. 

Luke pulled away from his kind gesture, and Ashton tried to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Luke." It was too late—he was already far ahead of him, and almost out of reach from the light of the lantern. He ran after, begging Luke to stop and listen. "I just thought you needed some love after having to leave your brother, that's all," he said, his words rushed in desperation.

"Ashton, I don't want your love—I've got all the love I need," Luke declared. An unsettling fear came at the lies he was speaking; how could he have all the love he needed when nobody loved him? Sure, Jack most likely would claim to love him, but he didn't even know who Luke really was. 

Ashton started to say something more, but he stopped and walked in silence until they reached Luke's front door. They mumbled goodbye and Luke entered his house.

He grabbed Benjamin's letter from the counter where he left it, threw away their secret plans from the kitchen table, and sat down on the couch to read the letter. It was far-fetched, but Luke hoped that with reading the letter, he could get back enough sanity to calm down before his parents arrived home. So with a blanket around his shoulders, Luke opened the letter and started to read.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been a week since the discovery of Jack, and Luke was still trying to figure out what to do with this new information. He had been obsessing over how wealthy his twin was, and how privileged he was compared to himself. He hadn't got much sleep all week, and it showed from the dark circles under his eyes. He knew that Ashton, Michael, and Calum were all trying hard not to spill the secret because they knew what would happen to Jack if Mrs. Hemmings found out about his existence—Jack would be ripped out of his luxurious lifestyle and thrust into the underprivileged, poverty stricken town that was South Riverside. Luke shuddered just thinking about it.

"Lucas! Get downstairs right now!" Mrs. Hemmings screeched up the stairs. 

Luke sighed. "Coming mother!" He picked himself wearily up off his bed, where he had been writing a letter to Benjamin, and clomped down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Yes, mother?" 

Mrs. Hemmings turned towards her son, floury hands on her hips, and said, "Lucas? Don't you remember what day it is today?"

"Sunday?" 

"Yes, it is Sunday. And, I don't need your back talk, understand? It's Sunday which means..."

Luke looked blankly at his mother. Mrs. Hemmings threw her hands up in exasperation and sighed loudly.

"The minister is coming to dinner this afternoon! He will be here in two hours, and I need you to finish cooking the meal. We are having fried chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls, and a white cake with strawberry preserves for dessert. After you finish cooking the meal I need you to set the table and....."

Luke's eyebrows lifted in surprise—the Hemmings' hadn't had a meal this elaborate since, well, it had been so long Luke couldn't remember when. He began to imagine all the wonderful food that would be on his plate, his mouth watering with anticipation.

"Now, I have to go set up the parlor and get dressed. When you're finished with all of your tasks, go get dressed and come downstairs. Remember—you are to be seen, not heard, in the presence of our minister."

"Yes, Mother." 

An hour and a half later, Luke had finished scrubbing and mashing the potatoes, frying the chicken, and had put the cake in the oven. It had to cook for another half an hour, so by the time the minster arrived, and got settled, he could serve him cake and coffee—coffee!

"I've got to make the coffee!" He cried frantically. He scanned the kitchen, trying to find the coffeepot. Finally, his eyes found the pot lying haphazardly under a pile of dirty pots and pans on the flour covered table. He groaned. _I've got to clean all these dirty dishes before Mother comes in here, and get dressed before the minister comes over._ He ran outside with the big washtub and briskly headed towards the river, grabbing a metal pail from the barn on his way. 

At the edge of the river he knelt and used the pail to scoop water into the tub. It was frigid and, by the time he was done, he was shaking from the cold water that had splashed on his pants. With eyes watering from the biting wind, he stood and tried to pick up the tub. It was too full and he couldn't pick it up. Instead, he half dragged, half hauled the tub back to the house through the heavy slush, that was typical of March in Michigan, water sloshing out the side. 

When he arrived, he realized the water was all but gone, and that he didn't have time to heat it anyways. He shrugged helplessly, and started for the house, panicking as he realized he still had to boil the coffee, and that his father was driving the buggy up the driveway, Reverend George Wittenberg sitting alongside him. 

He bolted inside, and when he did his mother was standing in the middle of the kitchen, anger glinting dangerously in her eyes.

"What is this?" she asked, motioning to the mess Luke had made while cooking. 

"Ummm, dirty dishes?" Luke answered weakly.

"No! This is irresponsibility. How can you make such a mess while cooking? And, where were you? And, why aren't you dressed?!"

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was trying to fetch water to wash the dishes with, and then it all spilled, and then I saw father driving up with the minister, and I—"

"They're here already! Oh, you better get this cleaned up quick because we need to eat in here, since our living room has been converted into a parlor instead a dining room. I got the coffee on a boil for you, now clean quickly while I greet the minister, then, get out of here before he sees you such a mess."

"Yes, Mother," Luke replied. 

When his mother was gone, he loudly shoved the dishes into cupboards and took the coffee off the stove. He exited the kitchen and tried to creep, unnoticed, into his attic bedroom. Unfortunately, the minister did notice Luke, and his forehead creased with disapproval as he took in his flour stained pants, muddy feet, unruly hair, and dirty, blue cotton work shirt. Luke gave him a huge smile and attempted a small bow.

"Good day, Mr. Wittenberg! The weather outside today is just dreadful, isn't it?" He said amiably. 

Reverend George Wittenberg gave a little cough and pulled on his starched collar. "Uh, yes, I suppose the weather is a bit wild today, Mister Hemmings."

"Oh, just call me Luke. Everybody else does, because my mother says I don't deserve to be called Mister, because I'm not a gentleman. However, I try very hard to be a gentleman. I even cooked dinner for everybody. Do you think God won't ever let me into heaven if I'm not a gentleman?" 

The minister now looked thoroughly uncomfortable, and his face was red, whether from embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell.

Mrs. Hemmings gave Luke a stern look behind the ministers back and tried to get Luke to hurry upstairs. Luke chose to ignore his mother.

"Would you care for any coffee, sir?"

"Uh, yes, please."

"Luke, dear, why don't you run along upstairs and get cleaned up. I'll serve the minister," Mrs. Hemmings said, forcing cheerfulness.

As Luke climbed the stairs obediently, he saw his mother take the ministers arm and lead him into the kitchen.

"He's not usually like this, I can assure you. I think he just spent a little too much time out in the cold wind today. I'm sorry for her impertinence, and I will make sure he is better behaved at dinner," Luke heard his mother apologize. 

The minister just sniffed and said, "Well, I should hope he is better behaved than this normally. Children are to be seen, not heard."

"Yes, yes of course."

In his small room, Luke sat down on his bed and picked his letter back up. He finished writing to Benjamin, then opened his dresser drawers. He rummaged through them, trying to find a suitable pair of pants to wear to dinner. He settled on his church slacks and shirt, after much indecision, because it was the only outfit he had that was suitable for eating with the Reverend. He peeled his soiled clothes off and stepped into the faded, brown slacks and pulled on the dingy-but-still-nice white dress shirt. He examined himself in the mirror and cringed. The pants showed his shins and the shirt was too tight across the chest. Luke crossed his arms across his body, making a face at himself.

"I can't eat with the pastor in these clothes! It's indecent. If only Benjamin were here—he would convince mother to buy fabric for new clothes," Luke sighed. He rummaged through his dresser again and pulled out her shabby brown jacket. He pulled it on over his shirt and buttoned it up. Once he was satisfied with his appearance he walked back downstairs into the "parlor," which was really just the living room rearranged to seem more formal. 

His mother was perched in an armchair, a fake smile plastered on her face. Mr. Hemmings and the minister were engaged in a conversation about the benefits of crop rotation. Although, it seemed to Luke that Mr. Wittenberg didn't know what his father was talking about. Luke smiled, pride welling up inside of him because his father was so knowledgable.  
Mrs. Hemmings wrinkled her nose suddenly and asked, "Do you smell something burning?" 

Luke's eyes suddenly widened, and he gasped as he remembered the cake that was supposed to be out of the oven half an hour ago. 

"I'll be right back! " he called, rushing into the kitchen. He let out a stifled scream at what lay before him. The pot-bellied stove had flames licking it's sides, and black smoke was billowing out of it. He rushed to a window and pushed it open, to let some of the smoke out. 

"I have to get that cake out of the oven. But, I need water!" He ran out the kitchen door, slamming it behind him, and heaved the washtub he had left outside into the kitchen. He brought it up over his head to dump on the stove, and time seemed to slow down as the minister strode into the room, looked at the flaming stove, and watched in horror as Luke dumped a tub of water on him. 

"I-I am so sorry, sir! I was just trying to—"

"Lucas! What have you done?" Mrs. Hemmings screeched. 

"Mother, the cake—it was burning—I didn't mean to—really, I am so sorry," Luke pleaded with his mother. Mrs. Hemmings glared at her son, her eyes piercing Luke's heart with fear. She turned away from Luke after a moment and focused her attention on the dripping minister. 

"I am so sorry for my son's behavior. Can I offer you some dry clothes?" she asked.  
Reverend Wittenberg looked appalled at this offer, and he motioned to the flaming stove. "I think you better take care of this first, ma'am. I wouldn't want your house burning down." 

"Oh, yes, of course. John, dear, would you—" Mrs. Hemmings began, looking around the room, but she noticed that John had already left to fetch water from the river. 

Once the fire had been quenched, and the charred cake disposed of, she led the pastor to the table that had been set in the sewing room and the three adults seated themselves at the table. Luke went sullenly to the kitchen and brought the food out to the table. After serving the adults he stood in the corner of the room, much like a servant boy would, and watched them eat. His mouth was watering, and his stomach growling, but the house still smelled of smoke, and every time Luke glanced at his mother he could see the smoldering fury in her eyes, so he didn't dare ask for any food. 

After a long, silent meal Mrs. Hemmings finally addressed her son.

"Lucas? Would you bring out some coffee please? And, what's for dessert?"  
Luke racked his brain, trying to think of something to serve for dessert. When he couldn't think of anything, he said mysteriously, "it's a secret." 

"Lucas, we don't keep secrets in this household—you know that." 

Luke's mind flashed to Jack, and a smug smile played about his lips. 

"We don't? I think we do, actually." Mrs. Hemmings' eyes glittered suspiciously, and she turned to the minister for help.

"No, Lucas we don't keep secrets in this household. Secrets are sinful, aren't they Reverend?"

"Oh, yes. All secrets are terrible, sinful things that will lead to the destruction of many lives."

"But, what if you have a secret that you can't tell anyone because it's protecting someone else?" Luke asked the reverend. 

He made a noise that let everyone know he was insulted that this child was questioning his judgement. "Lucas, secrets are not good. I know what I am talking about, I went to school for this. Now, is there a secret you are keeping that you need to tell someone? If so, please let it out, so you won't forever be burning in hell once you die."

"Um, no, I don't have a secret. But, my mother does. She needs to let her secret go." 

Mrs. Hemmings' eyes were flashing now, and her expression was set in a fierce scowl. "Reverend, I can assure you that neither John, my son, or myself have secrets."

"Yes we do!"

The reverend interjected here. "Please, Lucas. There is no such thing as a good secret, now let it out."

"No! I won't! There is such a thing as a good secret, and nothing you can say will change my mind. You know nothing!" He screamed. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, however, he gasped and stuck his fist in his mouth. 

Mrs. Hemmings started to move threateningly across the room towards her son, but Mr. Hemmings laid a hand on his wife's arm to restrain her. 

The pastor let out an indignant snort and leapt out of his chair. "Well, I have never been so insulted in my whole life. Cordelia, John, thank you for inviting me to dinner this evening, but I am never coming as your company again. At least, not until you get that sinful son of yours under control. Good day," he said, striding out the front door.

"But, you haven't even had dessert yet!" Mrs. Hemmings called after him. The minister turned back to her, motioning the dark clouds coming in from the west. 

"I am no longer hungry, and it looks like a storm is brewing. I best be getting home."

"John can drive you," she offered. 

"No, thank you, I'd rather walk. Have a good evening."

As soon as the Reverend was down the driveway, Mrs. Hemmings turned on her son. Mr. Hemmings hurried out to the barn, mumbling something about how he had to go tend to the cows.

"Lucas Robert Hemmings! You horrible, impertinent, stupid, savage, irresponsible boy! How could you have been so terrible? What have I ever done to you that would make you act so horribly?! You are the worst son I know, and I am sick of trying to make you into a gentleman!" Mrs. Hemmings screamed.

"You don't try to make me a gentleman! You treat me as though I'm your servant, and I am not sorry for anything I did or said today. You and father deserve to be humiliated because of me!" Luke shouted back at his mother. 

Mrs. Hemmings looked back at Luke, her demeanor suddenly calm. Luke's confident stance didn't waver, but fear flashed in his eyes. Mrs. Hemmings laughed cruelly.

"Lucas," she said, her voice deadly calm. "You are the most ungrateful person I have ever met. What you did today is unforgivable, and the ordeal you have put your father and I through since your brother left is also unforgivable. I am done trying to be your mother. Now GET OUT!" Mrs. Hemmings roared, slapping her son across the cheek. 

Luke staggered back in surprise, his hand instinctively going up to his face. Fury shook his whole body and he picked up the picture, he now knew was of Jack, off the bookcase and waved it in front of his mothers face. 

"You know what, _Mother_? Jack is better off without you!" He shouted, knowing his mother would think he was talking about Jack being dead, but not caring. Mrs. Hemmings turned pale suddenly, and she pointed a shaking finger at the door.

"Get out of my house," she growled, slapping her son across the face again. Luke bolted for the front door, not even stopping to put on his shoes. It had started to rain lightly, but Luke didn't notice as she he to the barn and began to plead with his father.

"Father! You have to stop Mother! She-she kicked me out!"

"She did what?" Mr. Hemmings asked incredulously.

"She kicked me out because I know about Jack, and I told her that she was terrible, and that I wasn't sorry for what I did, and—"

"Wait, you know about Jack?" 

"Yes, but I will explain that later. Right now you have to tell mother that she can't kick me out! I have nowhere to go, Daddy. Please, please, let me stay," he pleaded, cold terror gripping his heart as he realized his father wasn't going to do anything. 

Mr. Hemmings slowly shook his head. "Lukey, I'm sorry, but your mother is so furious right now that I couldn't change her mind if I wanted to. Just give her a few days to settle down, and then come back."

"What? You're going to let me leave? I have nowhere to go, Father!"

"What about Ms. Franny's?" he asked absently, turning away from Luke so he couldn't see his tears as he realized just what he was doing. 

"You know what? Fine—I'll leave, but I'm never coming back," he said coldly. Luke turned on his heel and ran out of the barn and down the driveway. At the end of the drive he turned around and cupped his hands over his mouth.

"I HATE YOU!" He screamed wildly. Turning, he began to sprint down the road towards the bridge that led to North Riverside Maybe Jack will take me in, he thought.

When he reached the bridge thirty minutes later, however, he decided he couldn't go to Jack's house because his parents didn't know that Jack had a twin. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, jolting Luke out of his state of anger. Reality sunk in as he realized he really did have nowhere to go. 

Howling, biting wind swirled through the air, whipping Luke's jacket angrily about his body. Cold rain was pouring out of the sky and the thunder roaring overhead made it hard for Luke to even hear himself think. He let out a frustrated scream and began to run again, rain streaming down his face. He didn't know where he was going to go; all he was focused on was the pounding of his feet on the hard ground, and his heart beating in his chest. Jack, Jack, Jack, I have a twin, he's safe, he's safe, Jack... A voice in his head kept repeating as he ran.

****

"Jack, we have a few minutes before dinner," Mrs. Owens said, "so would you mind telling me how your lessons are coming along?" 

"Yes, mother." Jack turned to his parents, who were sitting on Victorian style sofa from the Queens palace herself, and he started telling them about all the progress he was making lately with Mrs. Moreau. "Well, we've completed another week of French, and I even learned how to answer a few questions in French."

"Très bon," Mrs. Owens said, smiling proudly at her son. Mr. Owens nodded his head in approval, and Jack blushed at his parent's compliments. 

"I also learned a few more songs on the guitar and violin, as well as another part of the complicated piece I'm working on for the piano."

"What about etiquette?" Mr. Owens asked.

Jack paused. "Well, I'm making continual progress, but..."

"Yes?" he prodded.

"I'm not the best at all the mannerisms, but I'm working hard. This week I've been struggling with learning what the different fan signals mean, but Mrs. Moreau doesn't think I'm far enough behind to worry."

"Yes, no need to worry, you've got plenty of time to figure it all out, my dear. How's dancing going?"

"Okay, I'm now an expert at a simple waltz, and I'm practicing hard—" An unusual dark panic rose within him, taking his breath. He finished talking, but it took great effort to find the words he was trying to say. His mind kept flashing to an image of Luke, and Jack had to clench the edge of his sleeves to appear calm. 

"Jack, honey, is everything alright? Is there something you're not telling us?" Mrs. Owens asked, putting her hand on her sons forehead. 

Jack shook his head no, but he couldn't fight the panic any longer. He was squirming in his seat, eyes wild, wondering what on earth was going on. He had never felt so much dismay before in his life, and he somehow knew that this had something to do with Luke, even though it made no sense—he hadn't spoken with Luke since their first brief introductions. 

"Chris, should we call a doctor?" Jack vaguely heard his mother ask. 

"N-no," Jack stuttered, "I'm f-fine, please don't worry, it's probably nothing." He tried to stand and his father rushed over to him. 

Mr. Owens steadied his son and asked sternly, "Jack, do you promise me that you are telling us everything?"

Jack, through a cloud of thoughts revolving around his secret twin, managed to mutter, "Yes, I'm just tired and probably catching a cold or something."

Mrs. Owens exchanged worried glances with Mr. Owens before asking Angie to escort Jack to his bedroom so he could get some rest. "I'll have Jaidith deliver a dinner tray up to you in a little bit, alright?" 

Jack mumbled his agreement and followed Angie out of the room, tears pouring down his face. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he was pretty sure something was wrong with Luke. How it was even remotely possible for him to feel Luke's emotions, Jack didn't know, and the thought scared him almost as much as the irrational feelings rising from within him. He reached his room and Angie helped him to bed. Just as Angie was leaving, Jack had a sudden feeling of peace. Something had happened. What, he didn't know, but what he did know was that Luke was going to be okay. Jack let out a deep sigh of relief and his body instantly relaxed, as if the panic he had just experienced hadn't even been his to begin with. He pulled the covers over himself and eventually fell asleep through a fog of troubled thoughts of his twin.

**** 

The rain had finally stopped and the sunset sky was painted a brilliant display of pinks and golds and oranges, but Luke was too exhausted to notice. He just kept running down the dirt road, going nowhere. Ashton's house loomed in the distance, and he breathed a sigh if relief—if Ashton's house was this close, then Ms. Franny's wasn't much farther, for she lived on the back corner of the Irwin's property. 

As Ashton's house became closer, Luke's breath became increasingly ragged. His throat was burning; each time he took a breath the taste of iron filled his mouth. His legs were trembling and his bare feet were cut and blistered from the rocks on the road. He decided to take a shortcut through the Irwin's property to get to Ms. Franny's, instead of running the extra hundred feet to reach the woods trail leading to her home.

He began to make her way across Ashton's backyard, when he saw John out of the corner of his eye. _Dear God_ , he prayed, _if you're real, and listening, please don't let him see me. I just want a safe place to stay until I can go back home._

"Hey! You!" John shouted. Luke didn't stop running. "Stop!" John called again. 

Luke gave in and stopped to face John. He was standing in the middle of his yard, about fifty feet away from where he was. He saw him squint, and shield his eyes with one hand. "Luke Hemmings? Is that you?"

"Yes," Luke called back weakly.

"Are you alright? Do you need something?" John asked. 

Luke stood for a moment, trying to comprehend his question. His mind was working in slow motion, and his knees refused to stay still. His mind felt foggy, and as if in a trance he began to answer him. "No, no. I'm fine. Everything is just fi—" suddenly Luke felt as if the whole world began to tilt and spin crazily on its axis, and his vision began to fill with darkness. His mind protested, but his body didn't obey; it just let the darkness take him over.


	16. Chapter 16

Mrs. Irwin and Elisabeth looked up from their sewing with a start when John burst into the house.

"Mother!" he called, "Come quickly!"

Mrs. Irwin stood up and rushed into the kitchen, Elisabeth close behind, where they saw John holding a petite body in his arms.

"John! Who is that? What happened?" Mrs. Irwin asked.

"It's Luke. I'm not sure what happened, but he was running through our yard, when I stopped him and-"

"Never mind that," Mrs. Irwin interrupted. "You can tell me later. Now, just lay him on the kitchen table her. Elisabeth, tell Sarah to go find some dry clothes for him. Then come to the kitchen."

"Yes, Mother," Elisabeth replied, hurrying out of the room.

John placed Luke's limp body on the table, and Mrs. Irwin briskly set water to boil. Before it began to heat, she took a cupful of water from the pot and splashed it on Luke's face. 

"John, go tell your father and brothers what's happened," Mrs. Irwin said.

As Luke's eyelids fluttered open, he began to shake from the cold and exhaustion-he had been running nonstop for over two hours. Elisabeth entered the room then, set dry clothes on the table, and began to prepare a cup of hot cocoa.

"Luke? Are you alright?" Mrs. Irwin asked, her voice concerned.

"I-I-I'm fine, really. What happened?" Luke shivered, as he began to pull the dry clothes on.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure. John saw you running through our yard, and then you collapsed. He brought you in, and now you've woken up. So, you tell me what happened. Was it something at home?" Mrs. Irwin asked. 

Mrs. Irwin turned her kind, hazel eyes on Luke and looked deeply into his eyes, and whether it was because her eyes reminded Luke of Benjamin, because she was draping a quilt over his shoulders like a real mother does, or because Luke was completely exhausted, he began to spill the whole story. He told her about Jack, the burnt cake, the minister's visit, his mothers hurtful words, his fathers disappointing reaction, and how he had ran for two hours, going nowhere. When he was finished, Mrs. Irwin was crying, but Luke hadn't shed a tear.

"Luke, you may stay with us for as long as you need to. I promise that we will all love you, although it may take Thomas some time to get used to you," Mrs. Irwin joked.   
Luke smiled weakly. 

"I know you've been through a lot today, sweetie, and I'm sure you're tired. I'll show you up to the guest room, and we can talk more about you staying here in the morning, alright?"   
Luke nodded, a yawn escaping his mouth. Mrs. Irwin smiled sadly to herself, compassion welling up inside of her for this boy who was trying his hardest to learn how to be a gentleman in a household where nobody was taking the time to show him how. She stood and led Luke up the stairs to the guest room. She tucked Luke into bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

"Good night, Luke. I love you." 

"Good night, Benjamin, I love you too," Luke replied, accidentally placing his brother's name in place of Mrs. Irwin. 

Mrs. Irwin quietly left the room. Downstairs, she collapsed into her rocking chair and began to quietly sob. 

Mr. Irwin came up behind his wife and pulled her into his arms. "What's the matter?"

"It's Luke. We've got to show him as much love as we can. We need to teach him that the world isn't as cruel and dark as he believes it is. Jacob, honey, his family life is terrible! He's so young, yet so grown up at the same time. How can we show him that love does exist in this world?"

"Emily, we can just take this one day at a time. I know the children will take him in as one of their own soon enough, and you and I will treat him with the same amount of love, discipline, and compassion as we do all the other children," Mr. Irwin assured his wife. She nodded, and the two sat in front of the fire for a long while, thinking about their new resident, the problems he would almost certainly pose, and about how they could make a positive impression on this young boys life.


End file.
